Words of Undoing
by Teemuu
Summary: Heroes, kings, dragons, empires, and even gods have been undone by the words. What can a orphaned girl, a pair of guards, a ventriloquist and a bad singer do against such evil?
1. Chapter 1

Fire and smoked filled the air.

Young Isah painfully picked herself off the ground, desperately trying to stay conscious. The ten year old's arms and back were bruised and burned, and she struggled to keep her balance. She suppressed her tears as she saw her home was ablaze. There were no signs of her family and she feared the worse.

She intoned a simple prayer of healing and eased some of her physical suffering. Having regained some of her health she scanned the surroundings and was confused by what she saw. She was atop what looked like a tiered hill with a great barren demesne was below her. A large area of burning vegetation and smouldering rocks seemed to extend from her house to the coast. It seemed odd to her that the steps from her home would lead to simply nothing. It didn't make sense to her as she took another look and tried to reconcile her thoughts. She knew she belonged to the village of Nak-Sura-Man-Raa, but could not recall any other inhabitants except herself and her family. The more she thought about it the more it seemed odd to name a single dwelling a village. She knew it couldn't be the case, but could not remember any other inhabitants. Even more frightening was that she knew she had a family but could not recall any of their names or even what they looked like. She panicked, but calmed herself and rationalized it was simply shock confusing her memory.

As Isah struggled to make sense of what had happened, she heard a groan from nearby. She squinted through the smoke and saw a partially charred body. She was horrified, but found the strength to hobble to him and lend whatever succor she could muster. She conjured another healing spell but it provided little aid to the dying boy. The skin on his back was burned severely and blood leaked from his cracked skin.

Isah carefully rolled him over and saw his face was ironically still intact. She guessed whatever incinerated him struck him in the back, and prevented his whole body from being burned. She saw he was a handsome youth with high cheek bones, short brown hair, and clear sparkling blue eyes, a rarity amongst the Alaysian people. Despite his unique handsome appearance she could not remember meeting him before. "Isah…is that you? I always …I always thought you beautiful …blotches and all…" croaked the man before dying in her arms. To her horror the dead boy began flaking away into ash in her arms.

Isah wanted to scream but felt a cold numbness overtake her. She did not know why he was crumbling like away like some terror from a nightmare, but more importantly she felt a chill at his last words. He had obviously knew her, or at least knew of her and her recently cured skin condition. The young girl felt grief overtake her and wondered if she had gone insane. She was about to burst into tears, when suddenly she heard voices. She did not know who they were but froze, partially to avoid being detected but mainly from being paralyzed with fear.

"Not bad eh? I'm still mastering the words, but this is merely a small sample of my power. Your dragons and magic are nothing compared to my words of undoing," boasted a gruff booming voice loudly. Isah could not see the speaker, but detected a strong hint of dwarvish in his accent. While Alasyian were distrustful of foreigners, nearly every settlement in Ylaruam had a dwarven quarter. Even Nak-Sura-Man-Raa had one, but that made no sense. There was only one building in the village, so how could it have a dwarven quarter?

"I am impressed, lord of stone and storms. The liche queen was correct in trusting our forces into your hands," responded a harsh hollow voice. Isah shuddered as she heard reverberations of arcane power in his speech. "However, I wonder what Tenebrous would say when he discovered you have stolen his words."

"Tenebrous? Tenebrous? Oh…you mean Orcus…pfftt….I didn't steal these words. I took them. If he wants them back, that big pot-bellied goat man is welcome to try, "laughed the deep bellowing voice.

"Shsssshhh….do not utter the prince of undeath's name so lightly. He who's name rhymes with …Borkus, is drawn to whomever utters his name," cautioned the hollow voice.

"Orcus, Borkus , Orcus, Borkus…hee hee heee…..", cackled the deep voice which suddenly took a mischievous almost mad quality. "Alright, let's get outta here then. This is a sufficient show of power I take it, I don't want to spook ya since I uttered some bloated demon's name. "

Isah then heard the great flapping of wings and despite her best efforts she stole a glance skyward. Dozens of bat winged reptiles took to the air with what appeared to be pale riders wearing ochre bejeweled ornate armor. Most of the draconic beasts were the size of large camels, but some were bigger than houses. Isah quivered in fright as she saw them fly towards in a massive flying mountain suspended in the sky, just as they reached this impossible sight, the entire lot of them winked out of existence. Leaving her alone save her burned home , and the ashes of the boy that died in her arms.

* * *

The black robed figure bowed before his dark lord. A great throne composed of thousands of skulls of every size and shape dominated the room, while smoke embedded with screaming faces formed the walls of the room. Even though his body had long been stripped of his flesh, Harthoon shivered at the presence of the Prince of Undeath.

"Yes my lord," bowed the Lich lord, careful to avoid eye contact or even directly view his master. "I humbly await your commands."

The great bulk at the top of the throne roared. Harthoon felt his bones rattle beneath his robes at his master's anger.

"Somebody has used my words! Somebody has used what was stolen from me!" boomed the demon lord.

Harthoon was stunned by this admission. The words were a dark secret that could and has slain gods. Eons ago his lord lost his position in the abyss and struggled for over a millennia to regain his power. In the end he discovered and used the words to reclaim it, but such an act stripped the usage of the words from him. He awaited his master to settle down. "I will find this offender and arrange a suitable punishment for you my lord. Perhaps I shall infect him with dozens of incurable diseases and lock him in the darkest oubliette, or maybe place enchantments of regeneration on him and throw him into a pit of larvae. I shall consult my crystals and mirrors, and cast the highest divinations to find this fool immediately."

The dark lord growled, while he didn't gaze upon his lord directly he felt him wave off his suggestion dismissively. "No need. I know exactly who it is. He has dared to utter my name in the open , without fear of repercussion. I know this creature, but he has allied himself with powerful patrons. With the wars that I am currently involved with, I cannot move against him directly," he shouted. The dark lord then snapped a cluster of skulls off his throne and threw it next to Harthoon. The chunk of bone shattered into dust from his anger.

Harthoon didn't flinch, he couldn't flinch. To do so was to invite his lord's wrath. Never had he seen his master so full of rage. Not even when the Ebon lord or the Sibilant beast evoked so much anger.

"Perhaps if you cannot involve yourself directly, an indirect approach is needed," offered Harthoon.

A hacking noise sounded from above. Harthoon had seldom heard this sound, but did recall a similar noise when his master was gutting angels or torturing pitfiends.

* * *

Kirgi yawned as they pushed their way through the tunnel. "Kobolds? Really? "

Guard Captain Hussien shot the dwarf a warning glare, but Kirgi paid him no heed.

"Look Captain, we just killed twenty of the twerps, and are pushing our way through their lair. I'm sure they know we're here," explained the barrel chested, spikey haired warrior.

Hussien grumbled something in Alasyian and turned his attention back to the platoons advance.

Kirgi shrugged and nudged the man next to him. "We should just collapse as much of these tunnels as we can. These are kobolds. They're like rats. You can kill a lot of them, but they just come back. Killing these runts won't accomplish anything, we're better off just plugging their holes and starve the buggers, or at least make them do an honest days work and dig," chuckled the dwarf.

The thin man next to him nodded. "I agree. Killing the kobolds won't stymie this meance, but I do not believe that is our dear Captain's goal," said the man with a lowered voice.

Kirgi turned to the thin man and scratched the bald portion of his head. "Whatcha mean Petrus."

Petrus smiled. "Our young Captain is ambitious. The spoils of war goes to those that seize it."

Kirgi gave the man a look of disgust. "Treasure? This is about loot? Pffftt…these are kobolds. They're the bottom of the food chain. Even goblins and packs of feral dogs pick on them. Their idea of loot is a dead racoon, a boot full of worms, and a loaf of three day old bread."

"I agree, but don't you think these kobolds are a bit different," noted Petrus.

Kirgi gave his friend a blank look. "Eh? Whatcha mean? You mean they're some type of super kobold? Like those Tucker bastards, or those guys from Dragon mountain? I thought those were just urban legends."

Petrus shook his head and sighed. "No, I don't think they are some advance hyper intelligent kobold, though I might point out that fiendish and half fiend versions are known to exist. I mean doesn't the location of this warren strike you as a bit odd? As you pointed out, the lowly kobold is picked on by virtually everything that is bigger than them, and many creatures that are smaller than them. I think house cats are a good match for them. Their numbers are kept in check by pretty much anything in their territory, farmers included. Anyways, for some reason this tribe seems to be thriving, which is odd considering they are near a major road."

Kirgi scratched his beard and chuckled in approval. " Hmm, I guess you're right. These scaly dog men have been growing unchecked for the last year. I would have thought some farmers would just form an angry mob and chase the buggers out. Despite us joking around about the infamous wimpiness of these dog faces, they can be pretty dangerous in large numbers." The dwarf then stared up the roof and mimed counting imaginary objects. "I think they hit three caravans in the last couple of months. "

"Aye, from the survivor reports, the caravan guards extracted quite a toll before being overwhelmed. They didn't have help from an alliance with a superior monster, and they're tactics weren't remarkable. It was just a standard kobold fight involving a brief ambush, and then massed swarms of them to overwhelm the defenders. If this was a normal tribe, just one attrition heavy battle with caravan guards should send them scrambling back into their holes. However, that's not the case. They had the numbers to attack the enemy, and the staying power to strike again, meaning that this particular tribe has been growing and expanding unchecked in this area,which our dear Captain has deduced means that they've been hording a large sum of loot."

Kirgi frowned. "Well, I guess it's time to curb their population," he said while hefting his crossbow. "I hate it when they attack caravans," added the dwarf with a grumble. The pair of them had met when they were caravan guards five years ago. They made and lost their fortunes on that business. The dwarf still took it personally when confronting bandits.

"Quiet you two," barked the Captain Hussien from the middle of the column. "Keep your eyes open on supply depots and the chief's chambers."

Petrus and Kirgi both winked at each other and laughed. "Aye sir," they said simultaneously.

Hussien heard the laughter and was not amused. He pushed his way towards the two through the narrow passage, and confronted the pair. "Look you two. Don't think you are better than me just because you fought some giants and battled knights in the past. You might be big shit in Grom, but you're in Ylaruam now. You two are nothing but a pair of broke foreign mercenaries, and I would have kicked you to the jackals if my superiors didn't think highly of your reputations. So keep your mouths shut, and do as you're told!"

Kirgi snarled audibly at the man, and he would have torn the aristocrats face off if Petrus didn't put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Satisfied that he put the pair in their place, Captain Hussien stalked off to continue leading the search.

"One shot, and I can place a bolt to the back of his head," growled the dwarf in a low voice.

"Careful Kirgi, we swore an oath to the Caliphate. Like it or not, he's right. We tried the adventuring business, and the mercenary life, and it proved...how shall we say, unprofitable. Since our business partner Halvor is off with his new bride, we can't exactly fall back into the caravan business. We are kind of stuck as guards right now," warned Petrus.

The dwarf shook in anger, but then sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I suppose you're right. I guess its punishment for blowing all that money on booze and whores. I can't even remember how much I went through when we made our first big score in Grom City."

"Too much my friend, way too much," smiled Petrus.

Kirgi began to comment on spending while drunk or high, when suddenly the tunnel began to shake slightly. The dwarf's innate senses kicked in, and he turned behind them.

"So the Captain changed his mind about collapsing the tunnel," asked Petrus oblivious to the danger.

"No, we aren't the one's dropping the tunnels," said the dwarf as he fired his crossbow into the darkness. A high pitched shriek, that sounded like a cross between a yelp and a small dark barking echoed through the tunnel. The platoon stopped for a second, not sure of what to expect next, but then suddenly the entire passage was filled with high pitched howling.

The guards looked to Hussein for guidance, but the Guard Captain was paralyzed with fear. Kirgi however calmly put his away his crossbow and drew a pair of twin axes. "Get ready! Here they come!" he shouted as a mob of small scaly dog men filled the tunnel and charged the guards.


	2. Chapter 2

The kobold staggered back, its eyes crossed in surprise from the axe planted in its skull.

Two kobolds quickly took their fallen brother's place and screeched at Kirgi. One darted at the dwarf's legs while the other jumped at his face.

One of Kirgi's axes was still stuck in the first dog man's head, but it didn't seem to faze him. The dwarven veteran simply stomped the diving kobold into the floor with his boot and blocked the leaper's slavering jaws with the haft of his other axe.

Kirgi was off balanced from the dual attack as he struggled against the pair. The bottom kobold began biting his foot while the other one attempted to claw his face. The dwarf was almost forced back, but a small spray of acid blinded the dog man's eyes, followed quickly by a short spear jammed into injured kobold's head. Kirgi seized the brief lull and booted the lower dog man's face in with his iron shod boots.

"The mighty Kirgi almost bested by kobolds? I'm disappointed," chuckled Petrus as he drew back his spear and crouched behind the dwarf.

Kirgi yanked his main axe out of the dead kobold's head as he scowled at his comrade. "I'm a troll slayer, I'm respected by my clan cuz of my giant hunting techniques. I leave the kobold and goblin fightin to the lowly dwarven ratcatchers."

"Hmm, I wish we had some of those ratcatchers with us now," smiled Petrus as he jabbed his short spear forward over the dwarf's head. The thrust was wide of any foe, but it did send the kobold mob scurrying back. A brief respite to allow the dwarf to catch his breath.

Having regained his footing, Kirgi rushed the wall of dog men, chopping the arm off one and maiming the leg off another. The kobolds cringed back from his attack, and it looked like they would break and run, but the sheer numbers behind them, pushed and trampled their retreating brethren as they surged forward once again.

"We could use some more magic and less smarm, "grunted the dwarf as he was pushed back once again.

Petrus jabbed another dog man, injuring it slightly as he fell back with the dwarf. "My magic requires more room than these cramped tunnels, even Adara would be hard pressed to even stand in this area. She would most likely bring the roof down on our heads if anything, " he explained.

Kirgi grunted and his voice turned to a mocking manner. "I need more room, I don't have that spell memorized. Wahhh ! Pffftt….I never hear those types of excuses from wizards, sorcerers or those warmagi guys…."

"Warmages,"corrected Petrus.

Kirgi frowned, even as he heard Hussein shout orders from the back ranks. "You mercenaries cover our retreat, we'll fight our way out."

Kirgi was about to notify the Captain that he suspected the rear tunnel to be collapsed, but shouts of surprise rang mixed with the yelps of the kobolds in the crowded tunnel. The Captain's orders were cut short and without even looking Kirgi could well imagine what happened. The Kobolds probably emerged from a hidden tunnel and were probably hitting the flanks of the platoon in the chaos.

A blood curly scream from Hussein told Kirgi that things were beginning to turn dire in a hurry.

" Things are going from bad to worse," commented Petrus coolly. The summoner and a few soldiers turned their backs to Kirgi and were now fighting back to back against the horde.

"Why are you taking this so calmly? Can't you conjure giant ants or those choker monkeys or something? Anything will do," blurted Kirgi as he tore the head off of another kobold.

"I would but I told you I need some more room. I wasn't expecting this ill-advised spelunking expedition while setting out on patrol, " shrugged Petrus.

A pair of kobold's lunged forward at Kirgi, pinning his arm against the wall while another attempted to bite his face off. The dwarf simply spat in the biter's face before head butting it into the ground. He then released the grip on his war axe, and grabbed one of the grappling kobold's throat with his now free arm. With a kobold still on his arm, Kirgi tossed the struggling dog men into the ranks of his fellows, knocking them down like some pins in a carnival game.

"That enough room for you?" shouted Kirgi as he glared at the sprawling dog men.

Violet motes began to flow out of Petrus. "It'll do," he smiled.

* * *

Isah sat in her cell with the other prisoners. It had been a hard day of digging.

One of the goblins slumped over motionless, Isah guessed he died from being over worked. A heavily scarred goblin, began shaking in anger in the corner. The loud hobgoblin that was captured with him hadn't returned and she guessed the dog men were probably 'breaking' him, to teach him manners. While the dog men were small, there were hundreds of them, and they seemed to take devilish delight in asserting their power over their larger prisoners.

Isah looked at her shackled calloused hands. How long had she been a prisoner? A year, two years? She lost count of time ages ago.

The girl attempted to remember her past, but her memory failed her. She remembered she came from a small town, Nak-Sura-Man-Raa, and she had lots of friends and family, but it all didn't seem real. She couldn't remember their faces or names, and couldn't even imagine her town. She only remembered a few things; a single burning building, a boy that died in her arms that flaked into dust, and a deep commanding voice commanding a flight of dragons.

It seemed impossible the more she thought of it. Was she mad? Was she always a slave, and her past memories only a cruel product of her imagination.

All she knew was that she was one of the dog men's first prisoners and she had been forced to work since then. At first it was to assist them in digging their tunnels, but as they captured more workers the digging work were almost exclusively a slave duty. Most prisoners didn't survive long under the scaly dog men's watch, but Isah did.

She had power, though she didn't know how. It sustained her, and she kept it a secret from the dog men and the other prisoners. She could heal minor injuries by channeling an outside force. At first it seemed to be a benevolent source, but as her despair grew the powers that fueled her grew darker.

Isah felt the dark powers growing within her. She knew she was trapped, but perhaps she could turn the power to heal to a power that could harm. She was too scared to provoke the guards, but if she could turn her magic against herself she could…..

As Isah contemplated her own death, the walls of the small cell began to shake and then rattle.

The prisoners that still had some strength began to look around nervously and in confusion.

"Bree yark?" squeaked one of the goblins, before the wall exploded behind him, crushing him under rubble.

Isah watched in detached curiosity, as what appeared to be a pair of human sized insects dug their way through the hole. The strange creatures clicked their mandibles before racing to the opposite wall and began tearing away at it. Following close behind these creatures were three dusty humans with spears and a dwarf with an axe. There had never been a dwarf prisoner in the cell, and Isah had never seen one, but for some reason she knew it was a dwarf. The short humanoid was almost as broad as it was tall and held off a horde of dog men with broad sweeps of its weapon.

"Oh great, your dumb ants brought us into the slave pit," complained the dwarf as it held the breach.

Isah cringed at his deep voice, a dark memory stirred inside her but she didn't know why.

"Don't blame my minions. If they tried to dig their way to the surface, we'll be long overwhelmed," commented an older looking spearman.

One of the other spearmen walked up to the scarred goblin, and prodded it with the butt of his spear. "You, goblin! Do you know the way out?"

The scarred goblin snapped and sprang onto the guard. Even with its shackles it caught the man by surprise. Isah wasn't sure if it was the physical contact, the chaos of the situation, or simply the sight of dog men's blood that set the creature off, but it began savagely to tear at his victim's throat. One of the other guards, quickly put down Scar but it was too late for his victim. The goblin's death however triggered something primal and bestial in the other goblins. The prisoners rushed the offending spearmen, screaming vengeance for their fallen brother . The guard promptly began stabbing them in quick succession, but was knocked over by their weight in numbers.

The older spearmen did a waving motion with his hand, and one of the insects turned from its digging and began snipping the swarming goblins. It made short work of them, but it was too late for the spearman beneath them.

"Great there goes Abdul, " sighed the last spearman as he unleashed a small splash of liquid onto the packed dog men attempting to get by the dwarf. The liquid hissed and boiled, as it melted small patches of scale and bone, sending the dog men scurrying back once again. "Can it get any worse? We're lost underground, our platoon is slain, we're surrounded by crazy goblins, plus…there's a horde of angry kobolds behind us."

Isah knew she should have stayed in her corner, but something stirred inside her. She stood up and raised her shackles to the last spear man. "Free me, and I'll guide you out."

"Eh? That's one tall goblin," commented the dwarf as he kicked a dog man back. The creature yelped as its brethren briefly regrouped for another charge.

"I dug most of these tunnels myself. I can lead you out," she blurted as the dog men began their charge again.

The dwarf calmly took a step back, and slammed its axe against the breached wall. The wall quivered, before it collapsed into the hole. The rubble didn't complete fill the breach, but it did send the dog men scurrying for cover.

"Can we trust her Petrus?" asked the dwarf as he hunched over and caught his breath.

The remaining spearman nodded and motioned Isah to raise her shackle. He sent a tight jet of acid against the chains, which melted the chains.

"We'll find out soon, Kirgi," nodded the man.

* * *

Kirgi and Petrus followed the girl through the kobold warren. With the summoned ants covering their escape, the trio managed to give their pursuers the slip. True to her word, the prisoner seemed to know the tunnels fairly well. Kirgi guessed that this strangely expansionistic tribe of kobolds used slave labor to extend their lair. Whomever was unfortunately enough to be seized in their territory were probably caught and thrown into their slave pit, to be eventually worked to death by the diminutive dog men.

"What's yur name girl," asked the dwarf as they made their escape through the tunnels.

The girl hesitated. "Isah," she finally replied as she led them into a downward sloping passage.

"Where did you come from?" asked Petrus.

"Nak-Sura-Man-Raa," she responded as the tunnel began to level off and then ascend sharply. The passage then hit an intersection with three branching paths, but the girl pushed forward through the middle one.

Kirgi had never heard of such a place. Its name sounded similar to the other towns in the area , and he guessed it must have been a minor village or hamlet that wasn't recorded on the maps.

"Upon Moradin's beard, I'll promise to get you home after this," swore the dwarf as he smelled fresh air from above.

The girl stopped suddenly, almost tripping the pair." This is my home. My village,err my house, was right here before the dog men took it over."

Kirgi scratched his head in confusion, even as Petrus pushed past them. "I can see light, " said the Summoner as he sprinted the last length of the tunnel.

Kirgi breathed a sigh of relief and hugged the now stiff girl as the trio emerged into the sunlight. They had survived and escaped the kobold lair.

"Where the hell were you two? I told you to cover our escape! "Shouted a hoarse voice nearby. Captain Hussein and a dozen dusty spear men limped into the clearing.

"Err..maybe we should get some distance from this kobold hole," motioned Kirgi to the tunnel behind them, ignoring Hussein's question.

"Answer me!" growled the Captain.

"We were cut off in the confusion. We rescued this girl but Amir, and Abdul died in the tunnels with us," said Petrus shaking his head as Isah nervously stepped behind the dwarf. "Where's the rest of the platoon? "

Hussein remained silent but one of the surviving spearmen cleared his throat and spoke up. "Dead…all dead," said a man that might have been named Abu. The dwarf wasn't too good with names.

Kirgi could feel Hussein's eyes glower at all of them. The mercenaries and the remaining guardsmen all knew that the Caliph would strip the Captain of his rank after this disaster.

"This is the fault of you damn foreigners. Your incompetence almost got us all wiped out! "declared the Captain. He then turned to his remaining guardsmen. "And you lot. Beaten by kobolds! You should be ashamed of yourselves. I'll have the lot of you lashed for your cowardice! I'll ….."

Hussein's words were cut short as small arrow embedded in his throat.

A rain of a tiny arrows and sling stones pelted the remaining guards as they instinctively formed a rough shield wall. Several of them were injured in the volley, but none fatally like the Captain.

A chorus of yelps, barks and growls erupted as hundreds of kobolds emerged from the hills and rushed the small group. The dwarf's understanding of kobold was limited, but he could definitely make out 'take them as slaves' and 'crush them' in the shouts.

Kirgi gripped his remaining axe and braced for impact, but Petrus simply laughed.

"I don't see the humor in this, "grumbled the dwarf as the kobolds charged.

"These kobolds are really too brave for their own good. There's a reason they slink in their tunnels," replied Petrus.

The man closed his hands tightly together and began drawing them apart, as if a great force was pushing against them. Violet motes erupted from his hands , quickly turning red and then white as they raced towards the horde. Even from his distance, Kirgi felt their heat as they exploded into a wall of fire that incinerated the charging lizard dogs as they ran. Yelps of terror and pain were soon drowned by the roar of the flames as the survivors of the kobold army scattered in confusion.

"I'm not a sorcerer, or a wizard, but I have my moments," smirked the Summoner.


	3. Chapter 3

A dozen large covered wagons slowly rolled across the old caravan trails. Despite the sand and dust, brightly covered canvases denoted the wagons were filled with thespians, bards, and exotic sights. A pair of riders caught up with the procession and seemed to check in with each wagon in turn.

One of the riders was a taller man, broad of shoulder with almost bleach white skin. He wore baroque pearly scale armor, with no visible weapons at his side. His partner on the other hand was slightly shorter and bordered on heavy set. She wore a dusty silver chain tunic with a bow and scimitar at her side. The plump woman looked unremarkable save for her long red hair, that danced in the winds like flame. While the pale armor warrior was easily the more intimidating of the pair, the woman motioned for him to fall back. The taller man nodded and obeyed as commanded, while the chubby woman rode to the front.

"It's a beautiful day in Ylarrum isn't it? It's nice to get away from Grom once in a while," noted Tanksada the lead wagon driver. The large pot-bellied man sweated profusely as the sun beat down on him relentlessly. "You look exceptionally lovely today," he added.

The woman dismissed his observation with a casual wave.

"You should get out of the sun, you are turning red like a lobster. Wear one of the hoods we bought you. Also, that's Ylaruam not Ylarrum, or however you say it. If you say that to an Alaysian they will take it as an insult," scolded Fyrisvellir, as she appraised him in return. "Have you been drinking?"

Tank shook his head. "I told you Fyris, I've been watching my drinking."

"He is a liar and has a face of liar," said a muffled voice from a plain box next to Tank. "He's been liberally partaking libations since you and Isondoden set off for patrol."

The big man elbowed the top of the box. "You rat!"

The woman shook his head at the driver in disappointment. "Look Tank. I don't have time for your games. We've already discussed this. We have a show tonight. Dry yourself up, and for Mirodin's sake, please don't drive the wagon into a ditch. We can't lose you, since you're the star," she sighed.

Before Tank could throw another excuse, she spun her horse around and rode to the back of the caravan.

"The Lady has good advice," said the box.

Tank slouched his shoulders. "This isn't what I wanted. Just look at us! When did all this go wrong," he grumbled to no one in particular.

* * *

"Man, Adria's gonna be pissed when she finds out she missed all that kobold smashing action," burped the dwarf.

Petrus shrugged. "I don't think she minds. I think she spends her time reading or perhaps she does needle work when not in the material world."

The dwarf paused, unsure if the Summoner was joking, then shrugged as if he had forgotten what was said.

"Of all the people to waste the Holy Prophet's magic on, it had to be that idiot Hussein," continued Kirgi. The dwarf leaned against Petrus as the pair made their way back to the barracks.

After the Kobold's failed attack on the open field against Petrus' wall of fire, the depleted platoon made their way back to their outpost in Jaboor. While the guardsmen losses had been high, it was a deemed a great success especially after Captain Hussein was resurrected by the local clergy's divine magic. The Captain spun their tragic losses into a great victory, and the garrison commander reluctantly agreed. As they determined who was to be celebrated or who was to be blamed, Kirgi and Petrus buried themselves inside the cantina in the foreigner district. A pleasant distraction until they ran out of coin.

"It's not fair. That high born ass should be meal for the worms, not being dined and wined by the Sultan," spat the dwarf.

"Caliph," corrected Petrus.

"Bah. Back in Khazag Narg, we had proper nobles. Dwarves only care about rank if you can back it up with yer fighting skillz. We base our kings and lords on their ability to kick ass, not on how well they schmooze. Vorin the Grim, King Mountain of the Burning Hall, the dwarf named Lord, Ymir the Iron Princess, Clan master Kore, even villains like Stormbeard the fallen were honored by the fact on how well they keeled stuff," boasted the dwarf.

Petrus smiled. "In my homeland of Cheliax, a noble's ability to 'schmooze' as you put it, is directly proportional to how many allies you can field, thus how powerful you are."

Kirgi frowned. "Pffftt…I don't wanna hear any more about your devil nation of Cheliax. Where is that anyways? Somewhere by Thyatis? "

Petrus grinned as he hefted the dwarf against the wall, and opened the doors to their barracks. "Yeah, it's around there…"

To their knowledge the barracks was supposed to be empty save for themselves. The other surviving guards were given leave to go to their families in Jaboor, but Petrus and Kirgi were foreigners with no where else to go. The two mercenaries had fully expected to come back to their bunks and crash after a night of hard drinking, but were surprised to find a thin young girl patiently waiting.

Kirgi's eyes crossed and then uncrossed. "Hey girly, tell who ever hired you that I only go for dorf wimmen," slurred the dwarf.

Petrus slapped his companion on the back of the head. "Show some manners, that's the girl that led us out of the Kobold caves. Though I admit, after cleaning up a bit she's hard to recognize." The Summoner then turned to the girl and bowed. " How can we help you…Isah right?"

The girl hesitated and bit her lower lip. Kirgi often heard of the mistreatment that goblin and orc slaves endured, but seldom heard of the fate of kobold captives. It was rare that the diminutive scaly dog men took prisoners, and the dwarf wasn't sure how they were treated. He guessed they were worked hard, but could only guess of what tortures or humiliation that the girl endured.

Before the girl could answer, a shout came from down the Captain's office down the hall. "Kirgi, Petrus! Come here, and bring the girl."

The pair looked confused. It did not sound like Captain Hussein, but the two did as told with the girl meekly following them.

When they entered the Captain's office, they were surprised to find Lieutenant Abu there. Their comrade was dressed in a new formal uniform and behind a mountain of barely organized papers papers. Kirgi was still new to the Ylaruam ranks, but even he could guess what had happened.

"Unpaid bills, requisition slips, supply balances, monthly reports. I guess I should be happy for Hussein's promotion to the palace. I've inherited his old rank till they find someone else, but as you can see our old Captain left a lot of unfinished work," sighed Abu.

Petrus gave the man a mock salute before shaking his hand heartily. Kirgi on the other hand tried his best to stay standing up.

"As I'm hammering out the paper work left me, I need you two to get this girl back home," said Abu.

"Wait a minute sir. I don't think Kirgi and myself are the best men to handle this job. We had a hard enough time to find the foreign quarters let alone track down this girl's family. Can't Yusef or someone handle this?" Protested Petrus.

Abu shook his head. "They're off right now, and all of us will most likely be reorganized soon. I need this loose end to be tied up , and you two are the only ones I have around. The girl won't talk to anyone, she's probably still in shock, but for some reason she seems to trust you two. "

Isah nodded at the comment.

"See?" said Abu.

"Hmmm…She's only said two things to us since we rescued her, her name and umm… Nak-Kir-Min-Ria " noted Kirgi as the dwarf began swaying.

"Nak-Sura-Man-Raa," corrected Petrus.

The girl remained silent but nodded.

"Hmm.. that sounds like a village, but none I've heard of. I thought she might have been kidnapped from Surra-Man-Ra, a town fifty leagues north of the kobold caves, but I asked some traders from there and there were no missing people reported there recently," shrugged Abu.

"Is there anything else you can tell us? " asked Petrus as he turned to face the girl.

The girl hesitated. Her eyes grew wet, and she looked like she was about to run.

Kirgi pushed his friend back. "Settle down there, her head's not in the right place yet. Give her a while," said the dwarf in his best version of a soothing voice.

"Tenebrous," she blurted out before remaining silent again.

The three guards looked at the girl and then at each other in confusion. "Tenebrous? Is that like a house name or perhaps an uncle?" asked Petrus.

Abu shook his head. "That is certainly not an Alaysian name. "

"Not a Grommish name that I'm familiar with," added Petrus.

"Nor a dorf name," burped Kirgi.

Isah offered no clue to its meaning.

Abu sighed and then opened a drawer in his desk. He searched around for some papers and drew out a form which he briefly signed and handed to Petrus.

"The Caliph of Jaboor is a merciful and pious man. Of all the nobles in Ylaruam he shows his philanthropy the most by aiding the poor, feeding the hungry , and in this instance reuniting loved ones. There's a sage that specializes in divination that has set up shop near the recently harbor, a holy woman I think. Everyone speaks highly of her, but I haven't met her myself. She's only been here a few weeks, but she's already impressed the Caliph enough to be on retainer. Take this request to her and see if she can shed some light on this Tenebrous fellow."

Petrus nodded and placed the paper under his tunic. "If this sage or whatever can't deliver, then what do we do with her?" asked the Summoner .

Abu held up his open hands. "She's too old for the orphanages….. maybe one of the convents can take her in."

Kirgi frowned. The convents would be a blessing to her, but he already knew her fate. She would be given some minor sum to maintain the Caliph's image and tossed to the streets. Being an orphan was bad enough, being an orphaned girl was worse. If she was lucky some noble would take her in as an indentured servant and work some orchard, but judging by her thin physique, she would probably end up as a thief or worse in the red light districts. Not a pleasant fate thought the dwarf.

"Let's hope this Tenebrous guy knows something," grumbled Kirgi.

* * *

The bodies of the eternally tormented decorated the large circular room. They still convulsed and shuddered, but can only manage a low moan; their frozen screams filled the room. Despite the blasphemous surroundings, a black robed figure seated in a lotus position seemed to harness their terrible power.

Over a year ago, his dark lord tasked him to find those that stole his dark words. The Lich lord knew it wouldn't be easy. The words were primal magics, words from the time of creation that even an archmage like himself would have trouble to harness.

He deduced that the thief had covered his trail well and must have employed powerful enchantments to mask his identity. His master appeared to have some knowledge of the thief's identity, but did not mention his name.

_That would be much to easy_, sniffed the Lich with his hollow nostrils. His master followed his own mysterious ways, and making the Lich's life easy was not one of them.

Harthoon initially thought it was probably an archmage or another Lich like himself was the thief. He drew a list of those that had the power to harness the words, but that proved much too long and difficult a task to follow up. While he was not as infamous as some, Harthoon could match his might with a Jaegar Thorn ,the Whispering Tyrant, Vecna or even one of the Mow Dynasty Pharaohs, the problem was finding them. Most beings of such power preferred to be well hidden and secretive and employed appropriate magics to maintain their seclusion. He initially despaired at the prospect of tracking such individuals, but he later reasoned that whoever possessed the words was probably slightly mad or more likely completely insane. A complete mad man like Xagyg or that Halaster fool. Even then the shortened list proved too long for him to track. Regardless of the difficulty of the task, Harthoon let his consciousness drift into the corners of the cosmos known as the Great Wheel, seeking any clue to those that had stolen his master's words.

"….Tenebrous…"

"…..Tenebrous? Is that like a house name or perhaps an uncle…"

"...Take this request to her and see if she can shed some light on this Tenebrous fellow..."

"…..Let's hope this Tenebrous guy knows something….."

Harthoon heard the distant whispers, and his skeletal hands twitched with anticipation.

His lord's power was so great that his name was cursed with his dark will. Typically some self-important cultist or foolhardy academy student would discover his master's name and utter it in an attempt to gain some degree of power. Such hubris would indeed earn his master's attention, and would lead to the idiot's doom; either through some foolish contract for power, or an unwitting release of Abyssal terrors into the material world. Like the stolen words, his master's name had power though to a much lesser degree and most used a title or other name when referring to his lord less they earn his eternal enmity. His master had many aliases, the Prince of Undeath, the Blood Lord, and he whose name rhymes with Borkus, but few ever used Tenebrous knowingly.

Tenebrous was the name his lord used when he still had possession of the words. That was millenniums ago at the height of his lord's murderous power and almost all memory of that terrible time was erased when the words were lost to him. A coalition of greater powers rallied against Harthoon's master, and attempted to rewrite reality to punish him, but there were some places in the Abyss that even the greatest of angels or the most powerful of archons dared not tread. For mortals to utter his master's old name was odd indeed.

Harthoon doubt that whoever uttered the name Tenebrous was the one that stole his master's words. He already determined that the culprit was shielded by powerful magics. He considered the possibility that somehow the thief's magic failed or he had made a mistake but the Lich doubt he would be so lucky. He guessed a more likely scenario would be some clueless mortals discovered some ancient text like the Froginomicon, the Liber Mortis, or some Dark Azlanti texts, and accidently uttered the name, but it was the best lead that Harthoon had found within the last year.

It was too slim to directly investigate, but too important to ignore. Perhaps a servant was in order?


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't believe this! " spat Kirgi. "One day we're fighting trolls, giants, and saving the world from a half crazy half senile hillbilly warlord, the next day we're playing babysitter to a girl that can't even remember her village's name."

"Ahh , how fleeting was our glory. I admit we have fared better in the past, " sighed Petrus. "but we are the masters of our own fates. If we're doomed to a life of mediocrity and boredom, then that's probably due to the bad investments you've made, and my poor judgement in actually following you."

The two guardsmen continued to complain as they pushed their way through the morning crowds of Jaboor. The thin young girl between them was jostled forwards, seemingly uninterested in whatever fate awaited her.

"I mean, look at us. We just saved the platoon from a horde of Kobolds, and now we're playing nurse maid. Don't these Ylarites know heroes when they see one?" continued Kirgi.

"Do not be rude. Please refer to them as Alaysians and technically, my wall of fire saved the platoon," corrected Petrus. "You just watched."

Kirgi's dark eyes narrowed at the Summoner."Yeah, well I got you out of the tunnels. So I saved you, which in turn means I technically saved the platoon."

"Actually young Isah directed us out,"corrected Petrus again, seemingly enjoying the dwarf's growing annoyance. "But….I do admit you had a hand in our extraction. After all, someone had to tell me if the passage we were going through was sloping up or down."

Kirgi's already ruddy cheeks grew red at the slight. He was about to confront his companion when suddenly they stopped before a heavy door. While Kirgi didn't really pay attention to architecture outside of a dungeon or ruin, the dwarf did note that this portal was made of heavy oaken plants, bound curiously with silver hinges and reinforcements. What was more curious was the door seemed undamaged; Kirgi thought a few enterprising urchins would have attempted to scrape some of the silver off from profit. While the door was unique, the rest of the building seemed unassuming, but that didn't surprise the dwarf. In his short time in Ylaruam he noted that the even opulent residences had plain outsides.

"Here we are I think," shrugged Petrus as he swung the silver knocker on the door.

Almost immediately the door opened. The two guards and the girl entered into a modest but well-furnished waiting room, with cushions and hot mint tea before them.

Petrus and Isah were wary to enter, but Kirgi boldly stepped inside and plopped onto a pile of pillows. "Aww c'mon. This isn't a trap. There's no Krenshars to spook you here. It's all just some merchant trick the sage uses to put on airs for her customers," laughed the dwarf. "They do this all the time in all the swanky magic shops in Grom."

"Don't lecture me on the workings of magics," warned Petrus. "I may not be a proper mage, but I'm well versed in magic."

Despite his caution the mage eventually sat down but did not sample the tea. Isah was slow to sit as well, but she readily sipped the traditional drink.

As the trio made themselves comfortable, a veiled woman entered the room. Even though she was covered in white silks, her long dark hair and very feminine form mesmerized the dwarf and the Summoner as she sauntered into the room. While Kirgi wasn't normally attracted to non-dwarf women, he had to admit that this woman was an exceptional beauty regardless of her race. Isah on the other hand, cringed at the woman even as she kept her eyes on her at all times.

"I am the sage Jhallia, from your attire I assume you are on some type of errand for Lord Hussein or perhaps for the new Captain Abu?" she said with a perfect blindingly white smile.

"…demon…." Hissed Isah audibly even as she hid behind the dwarf.

Petrus ignored the girl and nodded. He handed Jhallia the papers Abu had given them. "Yes my lady. We were recently on patrol and rescued this ….very superstitious and apparently very rude girl from a lair of kobolds. Besides the fact that her name is Isah and she claims she's from a non-existent town named Nak-Sura-Man-Raa, we have no knowledge of her. Given the generous nature of the Caliph, we wish to send the poor girl back to her family if possible."

The radiant sage nodded. "Aye, the Caliph is a very handsome…very generous man," she purred. "I will assist you by attempting a divination to locate her home or family. " She then turned to the girl and waved her forward with an open hand.

Despite Jhallia's passive gestures, Isah shrank back behind Kirgi some more. "…demon…" she repeated in fear.

It wasn't until Kirgi physically pushed the girl that she stumbled towards the sage.

Isah thrashed when she made contact with her, but the Jhallia easily wrapped her long sinuous arms around her and quickly restricted her movements. It was then the dwarf noticed that this stuningingly perfect woman had only one hand. Despite her handicap the woman did not seem to suffer from it. Kirgi expected the sage to be punched and kicked senseless by the girl's struggles but Jhallia easily subdued her with her strength.

"Just calm yourself," purred the sage before saying a few enchanted words. She then closed her eyes and released her grip. Isah took no time before scrambling back behind the dwarf again.

"My…my divinations are drawing a blank from her. Her name is definitely Isah, and she is from a town called Nak-Sura-Man-Raa. However, she has no knowledge of her house name, or the location of this village. It's not as if her memory has been erased by the strain of her imprisonment, its as if they never existed beyond a glimpse of her past," explained the sage cryptically. "It's very odd indeed."

"Perhaps her captivity has warped her memories, making her believe in things that never existed," offered Petrus. " Kirgi often does that after several weeks of heavy drinking. He makes up wild stories of his combat prowess that he constantly repeats to the point where he actually believes them . "

Jhallia smiled at the Summoner's jest but shook her head. "No, I'm …how shall you say…quite accustomed to altered memories. This is something different."

The sage pondered the girl for a second and then cast a second spell. "This is very odd. She's not under any type of compulsion either but I sense a tremendous amount of residue necromantic energy about her. Did these kobolds that you rescued her from happen to work for a powerful lich or vampire lord or something else similar?"

Kirgi attempted to restrain himself but he couldn't help but laugh in the sage's face. "Sorry, sister. Just regular ol scaly dog guys. The only thing weird about the lot was that no one else wiped them out before we did. They were kind of just living in prime unclaimed territory. "

Petrus nodded to the dwarf's observation in agreement.

Jhallia pursed her lips and pouted slightly. Kirgi was getting light headed by just looking at her.

"This is strange indeed….was there anything else these kobolds did or said that struck you as strange? " she asked.

Kirgi shook his head.

"The girl, did she say anything else?" she asked. Jhallia moved slightly to get a better luck at Isah, but the girl simply ducked or avoided her gaze.

Kirgi scratched his beard trying to remember then his eyes widened as he seemed to remember something. "Tenny Brows, no ten bears, tea burrows? "

"Tenebrous, " whispered Isah. Though her voice was slight, the name carried clearly across the room, and seemed to almost echo off the walls.

Jhallia stopped, her face froze as her beautiful countenance was replaced briefly by a mask of fear and then a look of confusion.

"W..What did you say?" she asked nervously.

"Tenebro….."

"Silence! Do not utter those words lightly! " the sage interrupted with a shriek. She sprang from her pillow and wrapped her good hand around Isah's lip while her other hand glowed with violet motes as if she was readied to strike.

Petrus stopped while Kirgi sputtered his tea. Isah remained motionless but her eyes began to well up. They had not expected such a reaction from the beautiful woman.

Jhallia eyes blazed with fury but her anger quickly subsided. " Do not say that name, ever. Any of you. Especially not in my presence," she said in a much calmer voice. She then released her grip on Isah , took a step back and gave them all a deep bow. Her brief moment of insanity had left as quickly as it arrived.

"Err, what was that all about?" asked Kirgi, his hand stretched closer to his crossbow just in case.

Jhallia bowed again. "I am sorry, but your companion uttered a forbidden name, and it would be ….unwise….to draw attention to one self by saying it."

Kirgi shot Petrus a questioning look, and was surprised when the Summoner returned a blank stare. "I'm not a mage but I do know not to say certain names out loud. Like you never talk about one of the princes of hell unless you use his title, like lord of the iron city, the rough beast, prince of flies and that type of gobbledygook, and the same goes with demon lords, you're supposed to say the ebon one, the faceless lord, the prince of wrath, the sibilant beast, and of course the one whose name rhymes with Borkus, but I wasn't aware of any demon lord named errr…let's call him Mr Ten for now,"said the dwarf.

Jhallia nodded. "Your knowledge of the planes is quite extensive for a guardsman, but you are basically correct. Most of the 'powers' that you mention have latent magic in their names, and I might add those aren't even their real names. To possess an 'outsiders' true name does indeed grant some degree of power over them, but it also earns their attention. A sure way for the foolish to perish, " she said while looking at her stump.

Kirgi grinned and elbowed Petrus. "Way to drop the ball buddy, Mister ' I am well versed in magics' . I thought this was your department. Why didn't you warn us that Mr. Tens is the name of a demon."

Petrus struggled to reply but Jhallia answered instead. "Your friend's lack of knowledge of this name can be forgiven. Mr. Tens as you refer to, it was the name of a powerful demigod that could slay anything, even a greater god with the utterance of a single word. "

Isah cowered behind Kirgi but the dwarf laughed. "Hah, if that's the case why didn't he take over the universe, the cosmology, or the great wheel, whatever you finger wagglers call it."

Jhallia shook her head. "Long ago, there was a race as powerful as the Tanarii of the Abyss, the Baatorians of Hell, and even the Azata of Aelfheim. They were the lawful race called the Modrons and ruled the plane of Mechanus under direction of their aptly named god Primus. Mr. Tens snuck into their city and used his word to slay their god, sending their entire plane into chaos. The other gods rallied and stripped Mr Tens of his secret word, but not before he restored his own power and reformed himself as the one whose name rhymes with Borkus. One of the greatest of the Lords of the Abyss."

"…demon…" whispered Isah.

Kirgi rolled his eyes but Petrus shuddered. "Aye…I recalled something like that in my studies. The primal race known as the Modrons were wiped out and was eventually replaced by the Inevitables, the Axomites, and even the Formians. Their entire plane of perfect law was broken into sections absorbed into neighboring Acheron and Mount Celestia. They call the place Axom now I believe."

"Very good, " nodded Jhallia as she returned to her cushion." Even though this god has become a demon lord and no longer officially exists his name still carries weight. Even uttering his name can bring his foul attentions to you."

Kirgi shrugged. He turned and pointed at the young girl."So….what does this have to do with Isah here? Pretty sure she's not a cultist, but the kobolds might have been. She might have picked it up hearing them jibber jabber in one of their dark rituals. "

"Perhaps, but kobolds are known more for their worship of lawful gods like Tiamat or Kurtulmak, I doubt they would give homage to something as destructive as a long buried god like Mr. Tens," explained Jhallia. She then turned to Isah and stared into her eyes. "Child, I know it's hard for you to speak, but you force my hand here. This has now become a very serious matter. Tell me what you know of the name we refer to ."

While Kirgi wasn't a mage he could feel waves of invisible power radiating from the sage's eyes into the girl. He felt a seductive, vulgar, almost obscene force from the sage. It felt wrong to the dwarf and he wanted to stop this, but Petrus restrained him with a hand a shake of his head.

"A deep voice, a flight of dragons, my village being destroyed….." choked back the girl in tears.

Jhallia broke off her gaze and seemed exhausted from the effort. "Her will…is strong. Strong enough to resist me if she wished, but she allowed me to glimpse into her mind," the woman said in ragged breaths.

"So what does this all mean?" asked Kirgi as he comforted the sobbing girl.

Jhallia wiped her brow with one of her silks. "Honestly, I do not know. I suspect the key to this matter converns how she knows about Mr. Tens. Perhaps a cult is venerating this fallen god and did something to her people and memories. Most of the knowledge of Mr. Tens except for the tidbits I told you have been lost millennium ago, and even then only the Pharaohs of the Mow Dynasty and certain deities of knowledge were privy to this information."

Petrus sighed. "Well it appears that returning Isah to her home is beyond our capacity. Thank you dear lady for your time."

Jhallia shook her head. "Do not be so hasty. The knowledge you seek is difficult, but not impossible to find. While consulting with the gods is nearly impossible except for Epic Heroes, the pharaohs are another matter. Though the mortal forms of the evil tyrants of the Mow Dynasty had perished millennium ago, before the rise of Alphatia, the first tree of Alfheim, and even the birth of the oldest Linnorm, one of their ancient pyramids was discovered inside a mountain up north a few years ago. Terrible demons were found inside, and would have swept into the nearby city of Lower Lueders if not for the action of a few brave heroes."

Kirgi held up his hands. "Wait, wait, wait. We're guards of Ylaruam now. The operative word there being YLARUAM. Petrus and I did some business in Lower Lueders a few years ago, and we ain't going back. Job or not, it's half a world away. As much as I want to help Isah out, I'm pretty sure the Caliph isn't going to foot the bill for us to sail up north and poke around some demon pyramid, "protested the dwarf. " What's a pyramid doing in a mountain anyways?"

"No, you misinterpreted me. I agree that heading to Lower Lueders is impractical, and for the pair of you to even survive the dangers of the pyramid would be ridiculous…"

Petrus and Kirgi both bristled at the comment. Their professional pride as adventurers was inadvertently wounded. "Did she just smack talk our adventuring skills? " whispered the dwarf.

"… however, it has come to my attention that the heroes that initially sacked that pyramid are in Ylaruam as we speak. I do not know what knowledge they possess but perhaps they can shed some light on Isah's problem and how she came to know the name of a fallen god," explained the sage.

* * *

Petrus and Kirgi thanked Jhallia and left with Isah in tow. Despite the sage's consolation Kirgi wasn't convinced of the knowledge they gained.

"That sounds like a lot of finger waggling bunk to me Petrus," grumbled the dwarf as they began marching back to the barracks. "I mean, it sounds like a big wild goose chase to find some adventurers just to talk about something Isah mumbled. Chances are they are just some made up words the girl came up with that accidentally sounds like that god's name. "

"…demon…." Whispered Isah again as she pointed into an alley ahead of them.

Petrus shrugged and ignored the girl. "I agree. While I understand the dangers of uttering a demons name, I highly doubt that Isah has gained the enmity of an evil outsider, let alone a fallen god."

Kirgi yawned at the Summoner. "Me too. In fact I think its all mumbo jumbo. Regardless of how hawt that sage was, its all just some ploy to keep the masses ignorant by making up this taboo word list nonsense. She actually wants us to think that you can summon bad guys simply by saying Tenebrous. Hah!"

"…..demon….." repeated Isah again in a louder voice as she pointed once more at the alley. The alley was in their path back to the barracks, and the girl refused to venture another step towards it.

"Pffft…..there's no demon here. Look Isah, I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm tired of your poor lil lost girl routine," grumbled the dwarf. "Here I'll show y….."

The dwarf was interrupted as a large clawed hand reached out of the alley and grasped him by the head.


	5. Chapter 5

The boos from the crowd still managed to fill the large half empty tent. The chubby red headed singer was told in no small terms how much the audience appreciated her vocal talents.

"The crowd is scathingly critical tonight, " noted the box under Tanks arms.

Tank ignored the box. "Don't go crazy, don't go crazy," he repeated to himself as he gripped his fists tightly from behind the stage.

It started off with a few chuckles at first, and then the cat calls.

Tank thought Fyris was actually singing better than normal tonight, and that the criticism was undeserved, but then someone shouted something about her being 'fat' from the back of the crowd. While the red headed singer had admittedly put on a few (dozen) pounds in the last few years, the taunt seemed to throw her off her performance, causing her to miss a few notes which in turn threw the whole ballad she was singing off kilter.

The merciless Alasyians showed no mercy and pounced on her falter, and mercilessly ripped into her performance. Derogatory yells about her singing soon degenerated towards her appearance caused her to almost choke up and freeze. Tank could almost see the tears well up in her eyes and he wanted nothing better to storm down into the crowd and crack some heads.

He would have done so, if Fyris hadn't shot him an angry glare. This was their life now, this was their livelihood. Despite their differences, petty arguments, and their slow inevitable drift apart, Tank conceded her point. If she wanted to settle things with violence she was more than capable of handling it herself. It took all of Tank's will to resist the call of fisticuffs and he simply waited for her to finish her set.

While the crowd was fairly rowdy, they accepted that this was the opening act. There was always an acceptance that the opening act was generally not as impressive as the main show, so few members of the audience left their seats and demanded their money back.

When Fyris was done, she bowed gracefully before she rushed off stage and past Tank. Her eyes were downcast and her cheeks almost matched her hair. Tank wanted to say something, but held his tongue. He would just make things worse like he always did with her.

"You're up," said one of the stage hands, as the host prepped his act. Tank brushed him off, and instead watched Fyris as she left. He no longer shared her bed, but he still felt a need to comfort her.

"….the greatest Ventriloquist of the Northern Realms. The Man…the Legend…HIDA the Big Mouth Tanksada!"declared the host as Tank was still distracted.

"That's us," coughed the box, snapping Tank back to attention.

Tank staggered onto the stage, purposefully missing a step, which drew a reaction from the crowd. While he didn't have a bright colorful outfit or make up like the clowns, there was something naturally goofy looking about him that endeared him to the crowd. While he was a towering man, he had a large gut, and a simple face that made him look oafish. Also, his long blonde hair set him apart from the dark haired Alasyians which gave him an exotic look. More importantly, Tank had a folksy appeal that connected to most commoners regardless of culture. The big man easily charmed the crowd with his mannerisms and mispronounced jokes as he began his routine.

Tank grew up in the far north. Most Alasyians considered the Viking lands of Ostland, Sodjerford, Vestland and Grom the north, but Tank originated in a much colder climate. His people fought Frost giants, beast men, and polar worms, and until a few hundred years ago, were totem worshipping barbarians. Most of the tribes were named after savage beasts like the boar, the griffon, or even the squirrel, but Tank's tribe were named after the mighty Arctic King Crab a menacing chitinous beast that could cut a man in half with its claws. Growing up in such an environment meant one's hands needed to be skilled with the blade, and his feet to be balanced on a boat. Tank was a passable sailor, and a decent warrior, but spent much of his youth pulling pranks on his brothers Frank, Hank, and Frank by throwing his voice.

Tank took great pleasure at tormenting his not so bright older triplets, often causing them to fight amongst themselves, but it wasn't a marketable trade in his harsh culture. He didn't really give it much thought until he was given a chance to perform with the band of thespians that they purchased when he 'retired'. One of their actors fell sick and they needed a replacement act, Tank filled in, and he has been the reluctant star of the show since.

Tank's tactical mind quickly summed up who was bored and who was easily swayed as soon as he stepped on stage. He appealed to those that were most eager first to get the rest of the crowd in the mood, before working on the harder to please patrons. Tank noticed a small contingent of grim faced nobles in the crowd and began working on the audience to either side of them to outflank them so to speak.

Tank's earlier anger faded quickly as he ran through his routine effortlessly. He did the throwing the voice onto the sock puppet thing, and even made a lady's hat talk. The crowd easily fell sway to the charismatic northern, and soon even the nobles seemed to be enjoying themselves.

As Tank began to use his more elaborate props and storytelling tricks, one of the younger nobles began shouting for the talking head. Tank normally refrained from using the 'talking head' till the end of the act but he appreciated how much his fame had preceded him.

"Talking head? Talking head? " asked Tank in surprise. "I have a head, and I sort of talk. Is that what you want?"

"No! " shouted the children.

"Are you sure? Cuz I'm a professional you know!"

"Talking head , talking head!"

The big northern bowed and conceded to the crowd and drew out the shriveled head from the box. The thing looked truly frightful with its sunken eyes and shallow cheeks and exposed teeth, if it weren't for the curly yellow wig and bright clown nose attached it. It drew a moment of revulsion from the younger members of the audience before they began laughing at the strange object.

"How humiliating," said the head as it rolled its eyes. It's voice had a haunting quality that filled the room, and it instantly drew the attention of the entire tent.

"You think that's humiliating? They're clamoring for you, I might be pushed back as a side act," snorted Tank to laughter.

"Well, I am a star," grinned the head. "It makes perfect…"

"FAKE! It's a fake! A bad fake at that!" shouted one of the young nobles entourage. Tank kept his smile but narrowed his gaze on the man. He was a tall man, almost as tall as himself. His facial hair was well groomed and he wore his beard in a point, almost like some evil vizier from a children's story. He wore an elaborate multi colored vest with strange symbols sewn on them, and Tank immediately thought wizard of some sort.

"Sire! " protested the man to one of the more important looking nobles. "This man is using nothing but paltry magical spells to do his act. Without his cheap spells, he would be nothing but a talentless hack."

Tank gritted his teeth, but the head spoke first. "Well sir, we rather be talentless hacks with cheap spells, than a man that smells cheap."

The crowd laughed but the man stood up and silenced them all with a glare. "You dare insult me? Do you know who I am? I am Aziz Vhazi Ibin Shem, one of the most powerful wizards in Ylaruam."

Tank held a hand to the skull and took his turn. "I'm not sure about powerful, but you are certainly strong, cuz I can smell you from here," he joked to the delight of the crowd and even some of his noble companions.

Aziz eyes literally flashed with fire. "We'll see how funny you are with your magic," declared the wizard as he began weaving gestures with his hands.

The crowd gasped and fell back from him. While magic was fairly common place in the world, it was still considered bad form or even dangerous to cast it on someone with out permission. Also they were in Ylaruam a land that arcane magic was specifically frowned upon, but that did not stop the noble wizard. Tank however coolly watched the man and made no sudden moves, appraising the gestures in his hands.

"Hah fool! I the great Aziz have engulfed you in an anti magic field, your little act is at an end! You are as pathetic as that fat cow of a singer earlier," chortled the wizard with a very pleased look.

Tank shook with anger at the comment about Fyris, but simply shrugged and put the skull in one hand, while picking up a pitcher of water in another. He lifted the pitcher up and began pouring the water down his throat to the point it was overflowing and lapping messily down his jowls.

"Oh noes! I've been discovered! All along, I've been pulling the strings and projecting my voice to my buffoon human! " cackled the skull.

"That….that's impossible..." said Aziz in confusion. "Even a magical construct wouldn't work in my field."

"Maybe I'm a really small Halfling inside the skull," said the skull. At that suggestion, Tank pushed his fingers underneath the head till his fingers poked out beneath the eye sockets. He then began shaking it upside down and finally shrugged to the roar of approval of the crowd.

The wizard grew red and turned on his heels and left to taunting jeers.

Tank waved him good bye and nodded to the skull.

"That was entertaining," said Tank to the skull.

* * *

The show ended to thunderous applause. Even the half assed juggling act at the end did nothing to dull the crowd's enthusiasm.

Tank did the customary bow at the end, and quickly exited despite getting the most attention. On most nights he would stay to chat with the crowd, but tonight he felt he should be at Fyris's side. While everyone else was basking to cheers, Fyris was literally booed off stage.

As Tank left the tent, he was confronted by a half dozen men wielding what looked like truncheons. Tank couldn't see them in the dark, but he could already tell who it was from their stance and profile.

"You should not have challenged me foreigner. You should not have made me look foolish before my lord," stated Aziz coldly.

"Look Mr. Wizard sir. I don't want trouble. It's all show biz no harm done. You were the heckler I had to defend myself, it's all good clean fun," said Tank with an annoyed shrug.

Aziz seemed undeterred with his comment as his men formed a circle around Tank. "I do not know what type of magic you employed to resist my null magic enchantment, but it won't save you now."

Tank shook his head. He put down the box and opened both hands to Aziz. He then rolled up his sleaves and made a point to demonstrate he had nothing hidden in his clothing. "You want to see magic? I'll show you magic. My next trick will be to make all your teeth disappear," the big man said with a cocky grin as he slowly cracked his fingers and balled up his fists.

Suddenly the box on the ground began to rattle slightly. "This will be entertaining…"

* * *

The large scaled hand reached out of the alley and grasped the surprised dwarf named Kirgi firmly by the head ,its great claws digging into his skull.

"I don't know how you imbeciles spotted me, but this will be …entertaining….." barked a thunderous voice.

The tall older man named Petrus grabbed Isah and flung her behind him defensively, even as the afternoon crowds began screaming hysterically at the sight of the demon.

A towering creature seemingly straight from Isah's nightmares strode out of the narrow alley. Fading and growing in view with every step. It was a monstrous humanoid creature with green and brown knotted muscles, a vaguely canine head, and two pairs of arms. One set was large and clawed and currently lifted the thrashing dwarf easily off his feet, while the other set were great oversized arms that seemed more suited on some type of lobster or crab. The monster stood before them in all its glory, before tossing its prisoner effortlessly to the side and into a wall.

While Isah was mesmerized by this monster, Petrus did not seem fazed. The older man twisted his hands and mumbled some incantation, and a towering wall of ice interposed itself before the demon.

The wall was opaque, allowing Isah to only see a shadow of the beast through the wall, but even she could see the demon raising its great arms above it before battering it against the wall. Through the wails of the panicked commoners, Isah heard the terrible booms of the impacts and to her shock saw cracks appear on the wall.

"Isah, run to the barracks now," said Petrus as he began backing up and preparing another spell.

Isah nodded quickly. She only had a vague idea on how to navigate back to the barracks, but the prospect of being lost seemed much better than the idea of facing the monster breaking through the barrier. However, as she turned and was about to dash into the street, she suddenly stopped and almost tripped over herself as a pair of towering vulture giants barred her path.

The monsters were half as tall as the multi armed dog demon, but they still stood around ten feet each. While the dog demon projected raw power, these creatures with their scraggly feathers and leaned muscles gave off a more corrupted and hungry aspect.

"This is the one Alahou wants…." screeched one of the bird demons as it reached its taloned hands towards her.

"He don't need all of her ….can we keep her arms…." Screeched the other as it attempted to frighten her.

Isah began scrambling back towards Petrus even though the ice wall was nearly destroyed. She glanced back to see the dog demon almost through, but the older man calmly stood his ground and continued his cantations.

"Alahou and his master Harthoon will pay us more larvae than we can devour if we retrieve her first," cackled the first bird demon as its claws approached Isah.

The still prone girl wanted to scream, but instead she rolled back out of its reach. The demon's swipe miss but the creature's beaked face contorted itself to a grin as it seemed to enjoy this new game. The monster took another lunge, but instead of tearing Isah in its talons, it screeched loudly as it staggered back.

Isah blinked in surprise as she saw a crossbow bolt protruding from one of its eyes. The other vulture demon looked confused as well, but its attention was quickly drawn as a deep bellowing war cry sounded to its side.

Isah glanced and saw the dwarf Kirgi throw down his crossbow as he charged the other demon, with a pair of axes in hand. Though the dwarf looked slow and sluggish, Kirgi moved quickly towards his foe, slashing skillfully like a dervish as he hacked away first at the second demon's claw before slipping past it and chopping it's back leg.

Isah took the opportunity to scramble to her feet, but was again interrupted by a flash of lightning and what sounded like thunder. She turned and to her amazement, saw a towering ebon skin woman with bronze anklets and bracelets confronting the dog demon. This giant was shorter than her monstrous opponent, but calmly grabbed one of the monsters arms, straightening it into a lock, while smashing its other electric infused fist repeatedly into its gut, each strike booming thunder and flashing lightning against it.

" Demons are immune to lightning, " said the dwarf almost casually as he moved from his opponent and onto the partially blinded vulture demon. The demon clawed at its injured eyes helplessly, but its struggles quickly ceased as the dwarf embedded both his axes into the base of its neck. Isah expected the blows to decapitate the sickly looking creature, but instead it merely took huge gory chunks out of it. The monster thrashed briefly before collapsing into the ground, slowly fading away.

Petrus in the meanwhile, tipped his head at the dwarf and uttered a quick series of arcane words. The towering woman's hands suddenly stopped crackling and instead burst into searing flames. The giantess released her grip on the monster's arm, and instead wrapped her arms around its waist. The dog demon began snapping and thrashing wildly at her, but the giantess simply hefted it backwards, tossing the monster into a brick wall head first into the wall.

"Hah! Take some of your own medicine," chortled the dwarf as he pointed at the larger demon and laughed. As the dwarf's attention was temporarily elsewhere, the other vulture demon cruelly raked its claws into his back, splattering blood across the street.

Isah watched in horror, as the remaining bird demon began screeching wildly as it began tearing into the dwarf in a frenzy. Meanwhile the giantess moved in against her down foe, with her fists locked over her head ready to strike the demon down, but suddenly the ground began to shake and the giantess as well as several abandoned carts and baskets began to fall both impossibly and helpless upwards to the sky.

"Enough of this mortal nonsense! " barked the huge dog demon as it rolled onto its feat.

* * *

"Enough of your nonsense Tank!" scolded Fyris."What were you thinking! That was the local Amir's royal wizard!"

Tank shrank from her yelling. While it felt good pounding that hedge wizard and his goons into the ground with his fists, he knew he probably should have handled it better.

"They were armed…he had his magic…" he protested feebly. He could have said something else but he was too entranced by the angry woman before him. While she had definitely gained a few pounds since the first time they had met, she seemed possessed with her old warrior spirit. It was that anger and attitude that first attracted him to her and he thought it long lost.

"Look Tank, I know you mean well but we took on a great expense travelling this far south. We'll be losing our shirts over this tour. We'll have to leave this territory and there's a good chance we might get black listed by the other nobles in this realm. You know how these privileged bastards stick together," she said with a glare that could freeze a dragon.

Tank nodded silently, unable to pull his gaze from her alluring anger.

"In Tank's defense, he showed great restraint. He promised to simply remove their teeth, and he did just that, " cackled Tank's wooden box.

Fyris turned to the box. "And you! Stop encouraging him. You'd think someone as old as you would know better. Do you want me to throw you into the maw of the beast like I did your urn?"

The box did not respond, but somehow seemed pleased with itself.

Tank held up his hands in surrender. "Look, I said I'm sorry. Normally I'll take the insults like water off a duck, but the guy was saying some pretty hurtful things about you. I got mad and one thing…."

Fyris shuddered and glared harshly at tank. Her eyes spoke of painful death. "I don't need you to defend me ….." she hissed, as her eyes began to grow wet once more. " I might not be the great entertainer that you are…..but at least I know not to endanger our livelihoods…"

Tank didn't know what to do or say. He wanted to comfort her, but she simply took a step back and next second she vanished from his sight.

"I hate it when she does that," grumbled the box.

* * *

Isah watched the dog demon charge the now very frail looking Petrus. The man's skin turned grey and took on the texture of stone, even as the monster smashed into him with its bulk.

Petrus flew head over heels as he tumbled across the cobbled street, his uniform tearing as he rolled over the ground. Isah expect him to be broken like a doll, but the man weakly staggered on his feet. Before he could recover however, the dog demon swiped one of its massive claws at him like a club, folding him as he flew back some more.

As the monsters gained the upper hand on the dwarf and the summoner, Isah felt the urge to run and flee into the crowd while they were distracted. It was as good as any opportunity to flee, but instead she found herself standing tall and boiling with untapped energy.

As a young girl, Isah had learned the ways of the prophet. She was far from an accomplished cleric, but those simple skills kept her alive in the kobold's mines. She couldn't recall who taught her, or where she learned it, but she knew it was from the village of Nak-Sura-Man-Raa. She wasn't sure why, but she suspected the village was gone now, all memory of it erased. For some reason, this knowledge of her past's oblivion, and these demon's seemingly pursuit of her ignited her faith.

With an almost instinctive knowledge, Isah release a wave of healing around her. She half expected the demons to be healed by her random burst of energy, but oddly it only affected those she deemed worthy.

While Isah's gesture did not seem that significant, it gave Kirgi a chance to recover. The dwarf seized his second wind, and smashed the top of his skull into the vulture demon's beak, cracking it. The larger demon fell back slightly dazed, giving Kirgi the chance to flip onto his feet, axes at the ready.

"Good shot to my back, " said the dwarf sarcastically. "Want to fight me face to face now, you squawking chicken demon?" Kirgi challenged.

Petrus on the other hand rose unsteadily to his feet. Isah rushed to his side and supported the man, even as the huge demon towered over them.

"You are overmatched little man," growled the great beast.

Petrus conceded the demon's point with a nod. "True, but my Eidilon Adria is more than a match for you."

The demon raised an eyebrow, even as he was covered in a shadow. It glanced upwards to see the previously helpless floating ebon giantess dive down on him with great feathered wings. The dog demon attempted to raise its arms to block, but instead was struck in the jaw with a great fiery fist. The blow twisted the monster's neck with a sickening crunch as it fell spinning to the ground.

Instead of being slain instantly though, the creature glared at Isah hungrily. "You…will ..not esca….." it hissed before it began fading away.

Isah watched the monster dissipate into nothingness. The mere thought that she was the demons' target should have paralyzed her with fear, but instead she felt a strangely detached.

"Good work Adria," said Petrus towards the flying ebon giantess. The towering woman simply nodded before fading away.

"Are you alright?" asked the summoner, as the weight of the battle began to wash away the adrenaline.

Before Isah could answer, Kirgi skipped into view, kicking a feathered and beaked ball playfully with his feet. Despite the horrible wounds on his back and face, the dwarf seemed unfazed by all the violence as he kicked the vulture head over Petrus's head.

The dwarf then turned to Isah and gave her a cocky grin. "Err….so I guess this means you really have gained the enmity of a fallen god. You're a much more interesting little girl than I thought."


	6. Chapter 6

Harthoon projected his mind into the astral. There were so many threads, so many tangents that had to be explored. Though the task was akin to searching for a grain of sand on a beach, his master's will shall be followed. Must be followed.

Harthoon did receive a small clue recently, but it was on a small backward plane. Mystara an ancient realm, almost as old as the blasted plains of Blackmoor, but not as rich in magic as say Faerun or Oereth. It was once a prime world, but had fallen into backwater status by the Lich's standards. Harthoon harbored little hope that the thief of his master's words hid on such a plane, but he did send one of his servants , Alahou the Glabrezu, to investigate the matter.

As Harthoon contemplated the stolen words, he decided to re-evaluate the term he had chosen. 'Thief' while the title was appropriate it seemed to demean his opponent, thought the lich. Anyone that could steal and effectively use the words would be a match even for his master, the word thief felt it would lead him to underestimate his foe. Something that the lich was certain not to fall prey to. Indirect attacks, assassination, and maybe repeated disjunctions at the foe would be the wisest way to deal with it. If the 'thief' decided to take the battle to them, then they can use his dark lord's almost endless stream of demons and undead to wear them down and overbear them. That is…if their mysterious foe did not ally themselves with one of his master's many enemies.

Harthoon's lifeless skin, suddenly dropped a few degrees colder. Could that be the case? Could this mysterious foe be allied with the sibilant beast, Demogorgon? Or the ebon lord, Grazzt? Such a thing would throw the balance of power of the Abyss into turmoil, but it seemed like one of the few options that made sense to the Lich. Why steal words that can slay a god, and not use them for the last few years? They must be building up in strength. Harthoon suspected his prey could be using magics to mask the use of the words, but masking the death of a god was another thing all together. Sure, minor and demi gods were as common as larvae in the pits of the Abyss, but you did not need the so called 'words of undoing' to slay such trivial beings. Harthoon himself could handle a being such as Wasarti the hopping prophet or even some trumped up fool like Iuz the old. The words had slain a greater power once, and it could again if given the chance.

As Harthoon puzzled over his opponent in deep meditation, the lich felt three presences intrude into his casting room. Even with his senses attuned elsewhere, he could sense the trio were true tanarii. One was a formidable presence while the other two were subservient cohorts. Despite their power, the Lich did not feel threatened by them. His enchantments can more than easily handle their ilk.

"Great Harthoon…..we bring word from Mystara," growled a sullen voice.

Though his empty eyes were directed elsewhere, the Lich raised a scrap of skin that used to be his eyebrow. He gathered his presence from the aether and summoned part of his will back into the husk he called his body. "Alahou? Why have you returned?"

"Ummm….we were dispatched on the prime….."

"By mortals? How?" asked the Lich.

"We…" began Alahou but he began to choke on his own words.

With his spirit fully returned he gazed at his servants and saw that they were wisps of their former selves. Normally a demon or similar outsider that was slain on the prime planes would be sent back to their plane of origin. Depending on their power their will and essence might be either absorbed into the plane, reformed as a lesser creature, or suffer a period of reforming. Harthoon saw that Alahou the Glabrezu was able to maintain a semblance of his form, but his two vrock minions were having trouble keeping their bodies. The Lich would normally see no reason why to help them regain their power, but the urgency of the situation demanded he intervened.

Harthoon waved his skeletal hands towards an urn which floated easily into his grasp. He then smashed the jar with his magic, crushing what looked like flabby worms with contorted humanoid faces on them. The worms died quickly, their black guts squishing out of their bodies, but before instead of their entrails hitting the ground their essences flowed into the three defeated spirits, lending them strength to reform completely.

"Thank you my lo….." began the Glabrezu Alahou, but he was cut off by Harthoon.

"Tell me what you know now. Pray your information suffices my curiosity, or you three will replace the larvae I just sacrificed," he said curtly.

The three demons snarled meancingly , but bowed their heads to the Lich's concessions. Being the viceroy of the Blood Lord had its advantages.

"I stalked the being you requested, but I …I was immediately spotted," growled Alahou.

"Well, its not hard to spot a fifteen foot dog monster with four arms, " snorted Harthoon.

"No my lord, I was invisible and hidden, but one of them pierced through my veil," protested the dog demon.

Harthoon rubbed his bony chin. "Interesting….and then what happened?"

"The one that spotted me was a human child, a girl. She directed one of those rock men, dwarves towards me and I lashed out before they found me," explained Alahou. "They had a magician with them that could summon a Marut, so I summoned my cohorts to assist me."

The Vrocks cawed and rustled their sparse feathers.

"You were beaten by a dwarf, a wizard, and a girl?" inquired Harthoon.

"Just the wizard and the dwarf, the girl didn't do anything," added one of the Vrocks. Alahou swiveled his canine head towards the vulture demon to silence him.

"She did nothing except spot your presence….Interesting? None of them spoke any words of power? " Harthoon already knew the answer. They would be before him if they had mastered his master's words, but the Lich suspected a lesser form of the magic might have been employed.

"No my lord. My cohorts were slain by axe and crossbow, while I was dispatched by the Marut's fiery fists."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't Maruts use lightning fists? And aren't you immune to lightning?" asked Harthoon.

"The magician transform the ebon woman's fists into fire," said the other Vrock. Once again Alahou turned and silenced him with a glare.

"Interesting. I suspect the foe you faced was not a true wizard but an uncommon offshoot from Golarion known as a summoner. A trivial matter really, but it might be something to bear in mind later," noted the Lich. "Is there anything else you have to report?"

"Yes my lord, the trio sought an audience with the succubus sage….."

"Jhallia? " grinned Harthoon. The Lich had met that particular seductive sage on a few occasions, but had lost track of her through the millennium. She use to parlay her craft on the Midnight isles , but was rumored to have been slain or trapped in a mortal realm recently.

"Aye my lord…her abode was warded against magic, but my superior hearing listened in on their conversation."

"Did they discuss anything relevant? "

"Something about…warning them not to use the master's former name of Tenebrous, and ummm…seeking the Meow Dynasty for answers."

"Meow Dynasty? " puzzled Harthoon with images of cat kings and queens in his head.

"He means Mow Dynasty…." Corrected one of the Vrocks.

Alahou turned his head and barked angrily. Before the Vrocks could react, he snapped his massive jaws over its neck, and tore its head off.

Harthoon waved the remaining two demons to be silent as more questions popped into his head. He had heard of the Mow Dynasty. A series of interdimensional conquerors that were old when he was still mortal. In the distant past their magic was powerful and quite effective, but considered primitive by modern standards. The Lich didn't see how this connected to his master's stolen words, but he could begin to see the threads connecting. While he wasn't about to commit more resources than necessary to investigate this mystery , there was enough unanswered questions to make some sort of inquiry.

"If it pleases my lord, I can raise more of my brethren to confront them. They barely beat us last time, but we will turn the tables on …" began Alahou but was cut short by the Lich.

"No….you've already failed with the direct approach. We'll attempt a more subtle one. There is a demonic mercenary that resides in that realm, a minor power really but quite reputable. I will make arrangements to employ his services, and you will assist him in any way you can. We do not want to kill them yet, not until we determine if they know of the words we seek," commanded Harthoon.

The Glabrezu seemed insulted by the decree, but bowed his head in subservience. "As you wish my lord," he said before the remaining pair vanished from the room.

Harthoon watched the demons teleport and then returned to his meditations. While Alahou's defeat was certainly interesting, he still saw no signs of his true evasive target. Still, it would be interesting to see what his new agent will uncover about their unusual subjects.

* * *

Isah stared at her unusual companions, but did not feel the fear that gripped her earlier. In fact, she was still puzzled by the fact that she handled the previous situation so calmly. While she had witnessed far more horror and death than the average teenage girl, a giant four armed demon, a pair of vulture monsters, and a towering black skinned woman should have been enough to frighten her witless and sent her screaming in terror. Oddly enough it didn't. At best she recognized the danger she survived even as she examined the fading bodies and the ebon woman before her.

"What are you ?" Isah asked the ebon giant, as Kirgi and Petrus began to argue their next course of action.

"I am Adria, I am an Eidolon conjured forth from the aether by Petrus the Chelaxian," replied the giant.

"Don't use that title, " sniped Petrus over his shoulder. "No one knows where Cheliax is, let alone what a Chelaxian is."

"Petrus the ex carvan guard, and now a proud member of the militia is a better title," chirped Kirgi with a big grin before returning to argue with the Summoner.

"What is an Eidolon?" asked Isah curiously. The girl felt no danger emanating from the giant and slowly approached her.

"A creature of the astral plane given form by her Summoner's resolve. I normally stay dormant in the aether till he calls me forth, since my form is quite unsettling. He shapes my structure with his subconscious while I guide him with my will," answered Adria in a deep but still feminine voice.

"Actually, she's fully formed from the stuff of my mind, and any semblance of free thought she exhibits is simply some part of my mental functions expressing itself," shouted Petrus from over his shoulder again.

Adria smiled and shook her head." I let him believe that, it makes him feel better about himself."

"I heard that!"

Isah wasn't sure what to make of the giant, the dwarf, and the wizard/summoner. "So…what now? Is the danger over?"

Kirgi and Petrus stopped their bickering and turned to the girl. "I told you she could talk if the mood strikes her," grinned the dwarf.

"Yes, yes," noted Petrus before turning towards Isah. "While our immediate course of action is to report back to Captain Abu, I can already tell you what our esteemed commander will decide. "

The summoner waved at the devastation around them. Even though the demons were slain, the panic in the streets were still there, and even the guards assigned to this district were tentative to approach the battlefield.

"While I trust the sage Jhallia's field of expertise, I didn't fully appreciate her claims of demons overhearing our conversations until actual demons attacked us. These weren't the typical scum you find in the lower planes, but members of the race of true tanarrii, the masters of the Abyss," explained Petrus.

"Type One and Type two demons," added Kirgi.

"No they are Type One and Three, " corrected Petrus.

"I thought they stopped using a numerical tier system after the third age…" asked Adria.

"Second age I think, that's the time they stopped calling them demons and used the term Tanarii…" noted Petrus.

"But they use both terms now in the fourth age, " puzzled Kirgi.

"Of course, but we are no longer in the fourth age. They scrolled back the dating system, and I guess you can call this the three point seven five age…." Shrugged Petrus.

"Huh?" commented the dwarf with a confused look.

"Ok, forget I brought that up," sighed Petrus. "Let's just say I believe our esteemed Captain will send us to find these heroes that know raided that Mow Dynasty pyramid up north. Maybe they have some clue about why demons want to tear Isah apart."

Kirgi gave the summoner a swift kick. "Watch your tongue. You'll scare the girl!"

Petrus hopped comically on one foot and looked at Adria with a pleading face. "Hey, aren't you supposed to protect me? That's your job isn't it?"

"You deserved that," shrugged Adria. "You've probably scared poor Isah to death with your offhand talk.

Isah agreed with the ebon giant …to a point. She should have been scared, she should have been in a panic when she realized that Petrus was right. The demons or Tanarii, or whatever they were called were after her, and not the others. She distinctly recalled one of the bird monsters saying she was the one they wanted. Such a thought should have sent her gibbering into tears, but it didn't. It wasn't that she didn't recognize the danger, but there was a realization in her that tangible fear would not help her, only courage would.

Courage to discover why she was targeted by demons, nerve to find out what happened to her village, bravery to discover if she was insane or not, and valor to face whatever events were happening to her head on.

Isah nodded and marched to the side of the two arguing guards and their black giant. "Well, if I am being hunted by demons, we should report to Captain Abu and find these heroes right away I suppose," she said with a calm voice.


	7. Chapter 7

Tlazoz watched the city burn from behind the protection of his magics , while his massive dark iron mountain fortress hovered ominously overhead. Glowing runes suspended in the air warded him as his small army returned with their bountiful slaves and loot.

The pale astral warrior stood atop the hill. It all looked so familiar; he couldn't remember where they were after sacking so many dimensions and witnessing all the carnage and destruction. It was all a blur. The Githyanki warrior chuckled at the thought, the dwarf didn't even need to use his words.

Two dragon riders flew overhead as the warrior mage took stock of his plunder, their mage riders carefully weaving spells of non-detection. Tlazoz watched and thought one of them might have been Captain Zazoz, which meant the other was his fool lieutenant Kazoz. He didn't particularly like either one, but acknowledge them with a slight tilt of his head since they were both silver sword brothers, the highest caste of Githyanki warrior mages that he himself belonged to.

Tlazoz shrugged after they flew by. Their spells were an unnecessary precaution now. After they were done, there would be no repercussions or retributive attacks from this world's particular demigods, archmages, ,paladin lords or whatever foolery heroes they had defending them. After they leave with their booty and chattel, no memories of this cities destruction, no tales of the horrors they commmited would be told. It would be as if they didn't even existed.

"This is boring," yawned a gruff voice at his side.

Tlazoz took a step back in surprise. Lord Stormbeard in his heavy ornate armor was not stealthy by any means, but somehow he appeared at his side undetected. The Githyanki lord assumed he was using magic, but thought it was yet another frivolous display of power on the dwarf's part.

"If your power was known, the words you possess would make kings tremble and gods weep. I do not consider such a thing boring."

The dwarf grinned ear from ear. For a second his pupils seemed to flutter in random directions in his eyes. "Aww, you're making me blush."

Tlazoz raised a pale eyebrow at the comment. It made no sense, the dwarf lord's nose and cheeks were already a ruddy red. The Githyanki lord was about to ask for clarification, when suddenly the world shuddered.

Despite his wards, Tlazoz felt a wave of nausea and almost fell to the ground. He felt the urge to turn away, but felt a fascination to stare as he watched the burning city begin unraveling before his eyes. The bricks began vanishing, the streets started to disappear, and even the fires seemed to collapse in on itself. Tlazoz even felt his memories of the place starting to disappear, only his magics kept them intact. While his spells held, the Githyanki lord shuddered as the fabric of his mind tore inside his head at the power unleashed before him.

The dwarf pretended to wipe his hands on an invisible towel as reality began to fill in the vacuum he had caused. He then turned and seemingly began to walk on air towards the hovering iron fortress. "Well that was fun," yawned Stormbeard. "What's next on the hit list?"

* * *

Kirgi shuffled along the sandy trail.

"Why couldn't they get us a cart, some horses, or even camels? Why do we have to walk?" he grumbled to no one in particular.

"Camels?" chuckled Petrus.

"Pfft...I'm a ranger, I can ride anything," grumbled the dwarf.

"As I predicted earlier, Captain Abu most likely wants rid of us," noted Petrus from ahead. "Not that our old comrade in arms dislikes our company, but it is the safest course of action available to him."

"Eh?" asked Kirgi as he glanced jealously behind at Isah and Adria. While the dwarf was reduced to marching through the hot desert, Isah was comfortably sitting on the ebon Eidolon's shoulders. The dwarf noted that the small girl seemed almost happy as she held onto the now shrunken giantess. Though reduced from her regular height, the tall astral construct did not seem to mind the girl's weight as she effortlessly strode across the sands.

"Although we have no proof that the demons that attacked us were after Isah, it seemed our only logical conclusion given their intent and the sage's portents earlier," answered Petrus after some thought. "It would just risk more casualties and destruction if we held her in the city. Better we continue this fool errand to find more about this mysterious Mow Dynasty and more importantly stay far away from the populated areas."

"Well, that's all fine and good, but doesn't anyone care about that girl? Besides demons, aren't there like desert raiders or bands of gnolls out here?" asked Kirgi. "Aren't we sacrificing her safety just to get her out of Hussein or whoever is in charge's well oiled hair?"

Petrus nodded and a hint of a frown was cast on his face. "Sadly that appears to be the case. While I agree, that the welfare of others is important, it seems that the upper bureaucracy would prefer their demon problem to be handled well outside the city. The coward's path in my opinion but a common sentiment especially from societies that mask themselves under the illusion of freedom and moral superiority. Not unlike my native Cheliax."

Kirgi puzzled over that last comment. "So….does that mean you agree or disagree with us dragging this girl into the desert. Most likely into a demon ambush?"

"I don't mind," chirped Isah from behind. "I like the open air and Adria said she'll protect me," she added.

The ebon eidolon nodded in agreement as the girl hugged her neck.

Petrus sighed. "This means I disagree with their course of action. We would be better off fortifying one of the Caliph's casbahs rather than presenting a target in the open."

Kirgi nodded and then edged towards the summoner. "Hey Petrus, what's up with Adria? " he asked in a low voice.

"I'm not sure I follow your line of questioning, " returned the summoner in an equally low voice.

Kirgi shook his head. "I mean, I don't know magic, but I've listened to your spiel for years now. Isn't Adria an extension of your will or something? She doesn't do anything that you wouldn't want to do right? If that's the case, why she going all soft and maternal like that with Isah?"

Petrus rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's hard to explain. It's true that a summoner creates an eidolon from his sub conscious out of fragments of the aether, but because its our subconscious , we do not have complete control over what form it takes. Sure I can alter Adria's appearance from that of a seven foot warrior to that of a fourteen foot one. I can even change her lightning fists to fire like I did previously or even add extra arms to her, but her basic shape and form are determined by some hidden thoughts from my mind. The same goes with her personality and responses. However, I'm sure you've noticed that while she might disagree with me from time to time verbally, in combat our minds are practically meshed into one. We might respond differently in social interactions, but when it counts we are basically the same person in two bodies. "

Kirgi's face dropped at the answer. "Oh, I see," he lied. In truth he was more confused now than before the explanation.

Petrus smiled and motioned backwards Adria. "I'm surprised you didn't mention this when we first met. Most people typically question why my servant is so divergent from myself, especially when they see she has a feminine form."

Kirgi's face lit up. "Oh, that's easy. I had that figured out ages ago."

"Really? Please share your insight."

"Well, you're kind of a boring an ugly looking older guy. I thought you created a female eidolon to keep yourself from being ….err lonely."

Petrus looked puzzled at first but his face soon darkened. "Do not speak to me for the rest of our trip," he threatened in a low voice.

"Eh? What I say? " asked Kirgi as he scratched his beard.

* * *

Icy winds howled through the frozen plain. The trio of demons pushed through the snow till they reached the great crack in the ice. A rend over a hundred feet wide and five hundred feet in length, that ran jagged along the tundra. Wisps, of sulfurous steam occasionally jetted out from it and several totems adorned with skulls of humanoids and other creatures were scattered around the edge.

Even Alahou's demonic heart fluttered as he approached the great rift. Clawina and their newest cohort Toadface followed the Glabrezu , but even their presence did not stifle the fear the emanated from the wounded ground.

Alahou could sense demons and other dark creatures resided here, but he knew that did not translate to succor. If anything, most of the denizens would attack him on sight unless they swore fealty to the demon lord whose name rhymed with Borkus. Alahou recalled that the last demonic incursion here was under the banner of the bestial demon lord Yeenoghu, but knew that other older powers had attempted similar but smaller attacks in the past. The Scar itself was a sort of demiplane inside the plane that the demonic exiles of those failed invasions resided. A sanctuary for misfits on this plane that would most likely face destruction if they returned to their own dark dimensions.

"Are we seeking a demon or something else?" cawed Clawina, the fear clearly evident in her voice.

"A great lord indeed must reside here," fawned Toadface. "I yearn to serve under such a great demon."

Alahou immediately took a dislike to the bloated Hezrou demon. Besides the obvious stench, he hated such obvious sycophants. While some form of lip service was required and expected in demonic hierarchies, Toadface's over the top blubbering annoyed Alahou to the core. It was amusing at first, but the Glabrezu really resented the fact that his new subordinate was already kissing up to Harthoon's 'agent'. Alahou almost regretted biting off his last servant's head, but he did admit he enjoyed the taste.

"Are you guys Harthoon's boys?" asked a small voice from behind them. The trio of demons jumped slightly, half expecting an ambush of some sort.

Alahou turned to face the voice and was surprised to find a small naked humanoid standing in the snow. The creature had almost cherub features, but possessed an evil glint in its eyes. The demonic didn't use his magic, but could sense this was not its true form.

"Lord Ackerberg?"

"Please, just Ackerberg is fine," smiled the naked creature. "Freelance troubleshooter, inventor, tinkerer, consultant , and keeper of forbidden lores," boasted the creature.

"That's quite a resume," said Alahou. While bragging and giving oneself elaborate titles was quite common amongst demons, this creature was recommended highly by Harthoon himself. Alahou still wasn't sure what this creature was, but he did know the power of the Lich. And if Harthoon trusted and respected this creature, the Glabrezu would also do the same.

Toadface however sniffed the creature and flashed rows of half rotted teeth. "This…this is just a quasit. It's nothing but a miserable little winged rat. "

Alahou paused. "Are you sure?"

"My nose never lies! " snorted Toadface, its nostrils flaring angrily.

Ackerberg bowed and smiled. "My secret is out. You uncovered my deception; I am not really a Halfling. I am a quasit. Now that my guise is revealed, let's get down to business."

Toadface ignored the remark. He turned to Alahou and pointed an accusing claw at the diminutive creature before them, his cloak of subservience and sniveling gone. "There must be some mistake; we aren't going to follow this little runt are we? It might have fooled Harthoon, but it won't fool us."

Alahou was hesitant to answer, but Ackerberg calmly slid before the Hezrou demon. "Ah, I see the problem here. You are under the constraints of the old hierarchies, the rigid castes of the supposedly infinite freedoms of the Abyss. I won't hold that against you though, since that is where we all originated from, but I must warn you. In this dimension, one earns his position based on his personal power, skill, and of course social networking. A sort of enlightened meritocracy if you like. Now I can see your reluctance in following me. You, a mighty Hezrou, master of the Styx, and I a mere quasit, a …how do you say ' a flying demonic rat', but let me assure you that you will all prosper under my leadership and guidance. My unparalleled local knowledge, my unique skill set, and of course my mastery of subterfuge will result in the quick accomplishment of your mission, resulting in a favorable reference and sum from your master or masters for myself, and accolades for yourself for your prompt service. While the Abyss is a harsh land with limited employment opportunities, we can all agree on one basic principle. "Success is rewarded, failure is punished"."

Clawina ruffled her feathers and had a confused look on her. "I don't know what he said, but he used a lot of big words and he sounds smart."

Ackerberg bowed deeply to the Vrock for her simplistic but supportive compliment. " Thank you madam. "

Alahou was still leery, but once again Toadface interrupted him. "You guys can't be serious, we ain't following this little runt are we? I can squash him flat with one of my farts."

Alahou bristled at being interjected again. He considered biting Toadface's head off, but refrained for two reasons. One, that's what got him this stupid cohort in the first place, and there was no telling what sort of idiot servant he would receive as a replacement. And two, Hezrou's taste gawd awful. The Glabrezu could well imagine the rivers of sulfur and ammonia he would have to gargle to get the taste of the foul smelling creature's blood out of his mouth. He did entertain the thought of simply ripping the amphibian creature in half, but that was even messier and he valued his claws even more than his teeth. If there was a tree nearby, he would eagerly uproot it and club the fool, but sadly none was around.

Ackerberg shook his head and hopped directly before Toadface. "Ah, unlike your companions, you are still constrained by the old notions of rank and privilege. You won't accept my credentials unless you challenge me to the old barbaric rituals of combat and strength. It pains me to relent to such primitive customs, but I do see one's need to set a proper pecking order. To expedite this I propose a simple contest that even one such as yourself can respect. Simply put, we will alternate with our best strikes, till a measure of dominance is established. Hopefully, this will not result in a permanent injury or Abyss forbid, death, since I prefer to operate with all available resources, but I will concede such a consequence if it means we can move on from this unfortunate social discord."

"Huh?" asked Toadface.

Alahou shook his head. "He means he wants to take turns smashing each other."

"Precicesly!" beamed the naked Halfling.

Toadface furrowed the ridge of warts and lumps that sat over his eyes. "Okay, but I get the first shot."

"Absolutely! I won't have it any other way," agreed Ackerberg. " You can even …how did you so eloquently put it, 'flatten me with one of your …ahem …farts' if you like."

Alahou chuckled at the remark, but Toadface shook with anger. The broad warty demon raised both of its claws overhead and slammed them both onto Ackerberg. The Glabrezu was half expecting the small creature to blink out of the way, or even deflect the blow with some sort of magic, but instead the Hezrou connected fully against his much smaller opponent and smashed the creature into the hard frozen ground.

Clawina gasped, while Alahou sighed. His mission was over before it began. He had a scape goat, but it would still be seen as a failure in Harthoon's empty eyes. Alahou refrained from face palming himself though, his clawed hands were too sharp, while his humanoid hands were much too short.

Toadface roared in victory as it stood over its foe, but was quickly silenced as Ackerberg easily picked himself out of the small crater he made. Despite the violence inflicted, the naked Halfling did not seem fazed. "Well done, well done. However, now it's my turn," smiled the Halfling with an evil grin that gave even Alahou pause.


	8. Chapter 8

The crowd was thick and brimming with excitement. Foreign music could be heard in the background, as incense and other exotic smells wrapped around them.

"We marched half way across Ylaruam, chasing off bandits while being beaten on by the scorching sun, just to be stopped by this crowd?" complained Kirgi.

"Settle down, it's just a simple line. A que," responded Petrus. "Between Jhallia the sage …."

"Demon…" corrected Isah. She then scanned the crowd and pointed at what looked like a Halfling and three large men. "Demons…" she repeated.

"…and Captain Abu's reports, the people we seek are with this band of entertainers," continued Petrus, ignoring the girl.

"Hrmmph…kind of a weird place to hang out, but I guess powerful adventurers have eccentric tastes."

"Aye, it wouldn't surprise me if they were following them for the ambiance or perhaps to put on airs," agreed Petrus.

Kirgi then began hopping up and down to get a better look, but he could only catch a few glimpses. He felt Isah grip his few remaining scalp hairs tightly, but the dwarf ignored her desperate grasp.

"Stop jumping around Kirgi," cautioned Petrus." She'll fall off , crack her head, and then we'll be looking for a cleric all evening."

Kirgi began to grimace, but he seemed to change his mind half way through and returned a scowl back to the Summoner. "I wouldn't have to carry the brat if you didn't dismiss Adria. What's the use of an Eyedeeloan if you can't use it in town."

Petrus shrugged. " Please, it's hard enough to explain away a twelve or even a seven foot tall black giant with lightning fists, even after she aids us fighting demons. Imagine the reaction of the local constabulary if my ….Eidolon… just waltzes into town."

"Pfft. We're guards. Aren't we allowed some leeway? Some professional courtesy," protested Kirgi.

Petrus sighed as he pointed to his tabard. "We are guardsmen under the esteemed Caliph of Jaboor, but currently we are in Tel-alle-….umm Tel-el-elb…"

"Tel-al-Kebir," corrected Isah.

Kirgi turned around and gave the small girl on his back a puzzled look. "How come she knows this town's name but can't give a proper name for her own? "

Petrus waved the pair silent. "A matter we will get to the bottom of later. As I was saying, we are in Tel-al-Kebir, a small town outside of Ylaruam city and under the jurisdiction of the esteemed Emir of Beraan. Now, while Ylaruam is fortunately a prosperous and united country, it is a very feudal and monarchist state. To my knowledge the local Emir is quite jealous of the rich merchant markets of Jaboor, and thusly our presence here is barely tolerated by the resident militia, and the excuse of harboring a foreign giant into town would be just the incentive they need to hassle us."

"They could try," commented Kirgi but Petrus seemed too annoyed to reply.

"I can't see," complained Isah. "Where's Adria?"

Kirgi shook his head. "Sorry girl, Petrus is too chicken of the local guards to summon Adria, and he says I can't jump to get a better view."

"He's chicken…oh and there's another one," Isah turned away, and began to make childish clucking noises at a member of the crowd. "Bawk, bawk, bawk." Much to the dwarf's delight.

" Now you two are ganging up on me," sniffed Petrus as he rolled his eyes. "Anyways, you two aren't missing much. The head thespian or whatever he calls himself is just drumming up business, exciting the crowd. They are advertising mostly singing, some acting, and a ventriloquist act of all things."

"What? No animals? No clowns? Not even freaks? No games of chance? " asked Kirgi with a disappointed voice.

"What about the pale dragon I saw?" asked Isah.

Petrus shook his head at the deluded girl. "There is no dragon, just a painting on one of their wagons." The Summoner then looked down to the dwarf. "This is troupe of Thespians not a circus. You won't find any freaks, or wild monsters here. I myself welcome this higher bar of entertainment. It reminds me of the opera houses of Cheliax."

Petrus spat on the ground. "Bah! No beasties? No fat lady, or strong man? "

Isah shook her head in disagreement as she pointed at a seemingly random man. "Fat demon…..stinky….."

* * *

"We've been spotted," hissed Toadface in the harsh guttural abyssal tongue. The fatty demon subconsciously placed a meaty hand over the bandage over his eye.

While Alahou had placed them all under a magical veil, he still found it odd looking at his newest recruit. He made himself look like a rich merchant, Clawina a young woman, while Toadface took the form of a brutish laborer. The formerly hulking Hezrou demon still had a squat and and blubbery look about him, but he appeared distinctly human now from his spell. Even Toadface's normally repulsive scent had been masked by oils and partially by his magic, and Alahou considered his lackey to be almost bearable to be around, especially after Ackerberg had humbled him earlier.

"The little girl spotted myself and Clawina but….Owww! " exclaimed Toadface before a stick rapped him sharply on the knee.

"What was that for?" exclaimed the disguised demon.

"You will use either common speech or telepathy," said Ackerberg in an easy voice. Though the quasit disguised himself as a simple and rustic looking diminutive Halfling he projected a commanding presence towards the three other disguised demons.

"..but we've been …spotted.." said Toadface in halting common, carefully choosing his words.

"Aye, but oddly enough no action has been taken against us," added Alahou. The Glabrezu had expected another battle when the small girl pointed them out earlier, but no such action had been taken. The mage ,his pseudo marut and especially the deadly little dwarf paid no heed to the girl's warnings.

"Correct," agreed Ackerberg. "It appears the girl's sight can pierce illusions. It's not an uncommon ability amongst archmages, but very unusual for a child so young to possess. Perhaps this girl is the one that Harthoon seeks."

"Where's the animals? And the funny looking abominations? " asked Clawina as she craned her long neck over the crowd. As the veiled vulture demon stood on her sandaled feet and presented the image of a pretty Alaysian girl, Alahou thought her guise came out quite well. He didn't care much for mortal ideas of beauty, but he did understand it well. While not acting as a servant and warrior to Harthoon and the demon lord whose name rhymed with Borkus, Alahou's skill set made him a fairly efficient tempter of mortals.

Ackerberg waved the tall girl quiet. "I suspect we will not see any my dear. This appears to be a troupe of thespians. A bit cultured for this rural locale I think. It's all a bit odd."

"This is too odd indeed," noted Alahou. " I would have thought they would have hidden her in some vault in Jaboor after they discovered and defeated us last time."

"Aye it is strange isn't it, but not for the reasons you think," agreed Ackerberg. "If anything, I suspect they know as much as us about her, which is next to nothing. They most likely see her as some type of witch that attracts demons. I was surprised that they didn't simply execute her and banished her instead. I assume they just wanted to rid themselves of her and simply sent her away far from their little backwater of Jaboor. That much I garner, as for why they are here at this little theater production, I am ….I guess I am as clueless as Toadface here."

Clawina and Alahou chuckled at the comment, while Toadface winced and clutched his bandaged eye. Alahou wasn't sure how the quasit managed to take the Hezrou's eye, but he was impressed nonetheless. He was fully expecting the blubbery demon to simply swat the small demon, but Ackerberg somehow managed to maim the larger demon with ease, thus earning the Glabrezu's temporary respect.

"So what now?" asked Alahou.

"We simply wait and see," yawned Ackerberg. " Harthoon does not want us to drag the girl kicking and screaming into the Abyss, at least not yet. We are here simply to determine if there is a link between her and those magical hocus pocus words he seems so concern about. For now, simply spread out, don't cause trouble and watch from afar."

Alahou nodded slightly at the Halfling. A part of him bristled at the thought of obeying orders from this lowly creature, but he couldn't find a flaw in his plan thus far. Clawina however, slumped her shoulders.

"Does this mean I can't watch the show?" she asked in a disappointed voice.

* * *

Tank peeked at the crowd from behind the curtains. His keen eyes observed the crowd briefly but he quickly garnered all he needed to know.

Tank would normally spot the tough sells, the ones that were easily amused, and of course where the small children are amongst the crowd. As a performer it helped him greatly to see who he can impress the fastest and quickest, and who to avoid till later in the show. Crowds as a rule tend to act like one. It didn't matter if people began cheering or booing immediately, the tone of the evening would be quickly set and the rest of the audience would respond in turn. It was up to Tank to make sure that he started on a positive note, which wasn't always an easy task considering Fyris was the opening act.

Tonight however, instead of judging and sizing up his crowd, Tank's attention was immediately drawn to the two dozen men sitting in the front rows. Tank wasn't good with names, but was good with faces, especially ones' whose noses he busted and cheeks smashed recently.

"That Aziz guy is back," grumbled Tank, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "You'd think after the beating I laid on him and his boys he would learn," he said with a sigh.

"Do you want me to escort them out," asked Isondoden the pale warrior in ornate scale plate.

Tank visualized the carnage the wonderful ensuing carnage but shook his head. "Nah, I can handle this. "

"Oh you are going to somehow outwit them? Hah! And here I thought you were a ventriloquist and not a comedian," chuckled the box at Tanks side.

"Quiet you… I have half a ….." began Tank but he fell silent when Fyris entered the backstage.

"That advisor to the Amir or something is in the crowd, along with twenty men," she said while pointing her thumb at the crowd behind the curtain.

"I know, I know. I won't let it get out of hand this time," said Tank apologetically. The pair of them fought over almost everything these days, but this time he admitted he had done wrong. He shouldn't have humiliated the local wizard, and he definitely shouldn't have beaten them up afterwards. He entertained thoughts that this all could have been avoided if he killed them and buried the bodies deep enough to at least give them a head start.

Fyris dismissed his assurances and turned to Isondoden. "We'll cancel Tank's part of the show, have Francis and Emily do a scene from the play McDunn."

"Wait a second, "complained Tank, "I said I can handle this. Don't you trust me on this? Besides if you cancel my part, the people will want their money back. I'm the star here."

Fyris glared at him angrily, barely containing her anger. "Of course you are, you're also the big diva that got us into this potentially dangerous mess. That wizard and his henchmen don't look like they've travelled all this way to heckle you. The rest of the crowd and your co-workers might get hurt when the swords and spells start flying, but you don't really care do you? It's all about massaging that big ego of yours isn't it?"

Tank's anger rose, he shook with barely contained fury at her words, but Fyris wasn't finished with him.

"The show must go on right? Since you are the big star here, you're the one everyone is counting on. Admit it, you feed off the applause and praise. It makes you feel all big inside, makes you feel you're better than your big brother Frank at something. He's the big hero, the big Champion, while you're a washed up adventurer that happens to be a ventriloquist….that cheats if I might add."

"I said , I'll handle this," hissed Tank. He involuntarily flinched his arm as if ready to strike, but he quickly held blow. Despite flexing his fist slightly and moving his hand less than an inch, the motion did not escape Fyris's notice.

"Go ahead. Let me have it, I dare you. I can take it," she said as she stuck out her double chins at her. A single tear rolled won her cheek. "C'mon it won't hurt with my layer of fat. Surprised? I've heard all your little jokes and your snide comments about my weight behind my back."

Tank's anger drained at the last comment. While it was true he might have made one or two jokes concerning her growing weight in the past, he thought they didn't count because he only said that when he was drunk. He didn't think it mattered much, since he was simply stating the truth, but from the expression on her face, it had hurt her more than any blow he could ever land on her.

"I'm sorry you don't have faith in me," said Tank slowly, his eyes staring at anywhere except for Fyris's gaze.

The pair stood only a few feet apart, but it felt like a chasm between them. Tank wasn't sure what to say next…and then the screaming started.


	9. Chapter 9

When Kirgi first heard the scream, the dwarf thought it was part of the act and he grinned from ear to ear. He thought the scream would then be followed up by some scary music or perhaps some loud sound effects, but none followed. Only confused shouts followed the initial outburst.

"What's going on?" asked Kirgi as he stood up to no avail. While the Alasyian people were not considered tall like northmen or Vikings, they were plenty high enough to obscure the dwarf's view.

Petrus stood as well. The summoner had a better vantage point but could not make out what was going on. "Something has appeared between the stage and the front row. I can't tell what it is, but it's moving, almost slithering…."

Kirgi scowled. "This is outrageous! A dwarven built theater wouldn't be so ill designed. They should have tiered chairs, and wrap itself around in a semi-circle like a proper amphitheater to let everyone else see. I feel cheated in these seats! "bristled the dwarf at the vertical sleights he had to endure on the surface world. "I want my money back!"

As Kirgi continued to protest, Isah climbed up on his shoulders and balanced herself precariously to get a better view. "Snakes…..lots of snakes….tomorrow's snakes…." She said ominously before swiftly ducking behind the dwarf.

Kirgi chuckled, and tried to grab the small girl now behind him. "There's no sna….."

"Serpents!" came a shout interrupting the dwarf.

* * *

Confusion, chaos, then panic filled the large tent. Patrons and performers alike fled the scene. At first some people thought it was all part of the show, but that opinion quickly changed when the musicians dropped their instruments, sowing panic to the rest of the crowd.

"Serpents!" shouted the crowd as they ran. "Demons!"

"I'm not sure it's a snake, but whatever it is, it's definitely scaly," commented Tank calmly as he peaked past the heavy curtain. "Maybe one of those pygmy dragons….a drake or something?"

Isondoden shot Tank an icy glare, but the pudgy entertainer chose not to notice.

The bury entertainer couldn't discern exactly what he was seeing, but he could make out what appeared to be a large writhing sphere, squirming just below the stage. Tank first thought it was a trick by Aziz to chase witnesses away while he and his men would attempt to settle their score with him, but he saw instead the wizard and his guards approach the sphere carefully with weapons drawn, with looks of confusion similar to his own.

"It's not a demon," noted Fyris from underneath his arm. "I can't smell the corruption of the abyss nor can I detect evil from that mass."

Tank felt a chill tingle down his spine. It wasn't because he remembered that she was once an accomplished adventurer, a Paladin of Mirrodin, Knight of the Lion, Captain of the Royal Rangers ,but it was when he realized how close she was with him. He almost ignored the disruption as he gazed down on the top of her red hair and recalled how she went by the name of Bloodshadow back then. It almost felt just like old times, the pair of them sneaking through a dungeon or something or hiding from some mad priest, armed to the teeth fighting for their lives; except now they were both a little older,a little heavier, and wearing comical pantaloons now.

Tank sighted, his large frame handled the weight better than her formerly lithe body, and noted that was probably the beginning of the growing chasm between them. And of course it didn't help when he constantly teased her about it. It was playful at first, but Tank admitted it probably sounded malicious or hurtful at the time to Fyris. That of course led to Fyris' personal attacks on his intelligence, which of course escalated to their growing rivalry of their entertainer prowess. A contest that Tank proudly won, but in a moment of clarity similar to his old battle acumen, he realized he should have conceded some ground to her. Acting, singing, and his ventriloquist act meant as much to Tank as drinking and gambling, but it meant everything to Fyrisvellir. This whole gig was just a diversion to him. As Tank glared at her long hair he realized how much he had hurt her by turning her dream of being an entertainer diva of some sort, into a side show nightmare instead.

"Should I get weapons?" asked Isondoden from a few feet behind.

"Nah," replied the pair simultaneously. Tank smiled even as Fyris paused and looked up at him. The burly warrior noted a mischievous smile on her face, and he nodded at her to continue.

"I'm not sure what it is, but it looks like yuan ti…maybe ophidians," she said with a confident upwards grin.

"Yeah, no need for weapons," continued Tank. "If things go bad, we can beat them back with my jester shoes."

The pair shared a laugh. Just like old times noted Tank.

"These aren't yuan ti, ophidians, or even common serpent folk," noted the box that Tank carried. "I..I'm at a lost to identify them, but they appear to be creatures of primordial chaos."

"You mean Slaads right? Toad creatures of Limbo that resemble err…frogs and toads? " corrected Tank. "I've only fought a few, but my ermm…brother has tangled them with a few times."

"…aye.. and we all know how much he likes to brag about his exploits," chuckled Fyris as she rolled her eyes. Tank expected some hint of poison in her voice but heard none. Instead he felt that old camaraderie he used to share with her.

"No….They are something different, something that I've seen in my dreams. Something that should not exist…yet," rebuked the box ominously." Besides, Slaad have either slick or leathery smooth skins. No scales like these interlopers possess."

"Well whatever. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but if they are critters from the ..how did you put it…the primordial chaos..I'm just gonna assume they're some type of mutant Slaad. Maybe some type of scaly frog beastie from the Isle of Dread or something. I don't know much but only critters that live in Limbo are Slaads and those Githyankee guys, " shrugged Tank even as Aziz and his men started to ring themselves around the mass. The Alasyian toughs had their scimitars drawn even as the wizard began preparing a spell.

"Do not question me in these matters" replied the box in a bored voice. "You've probably never heard of these 'outsiders' before because they don't exist in mass numbers,. at least not yet. Just because the Slaad currently reign in chaos, does not mean they will do so forever. It is the very nature of Limbo that things do not seem what they appear and that things are destined to change. I understand it's hard for your primitive minds to comprehend, but a multi-dimensional being such as myself perceives the universe and time in much more expanded and simultaneous view."

Tank let the box finish his chatter, before he shook it violently and 'accidently' dropped it. "Oops, blame my clumsy one dimensional hands and unexpanded slippery fingers for that, " he joked as he then scooped the now humbled box back up.

Fyris and even Isondoden chuckled lightly. Tank expected the box to start bitching but the panic of the crowd soon turned to screams of terror.

Tank watched Aziz's guards or thugs tentatively attack the scaly sphere. The first strike seemed more of a probe then an attack, but was met with lethal force in return. A large light violet creature with a snake hybrid torso but a bestial lower section uncoiled from the ball and pounced on the first guard. Wrapping its tail around the man and crushing him near instantly in its fury. The guards took a step back, even as more ogre sized snake men unraveled from the ball and began charging their ranks. Aziz fired some sort of lightning spell that struck one of the snakemen, charring its skin, but that act just seem to enrage the alien creatures more as two more untangled themselves from the main mass and charged the wizard.

Tank was mesmerized by the violent scene, but managed to pull his head back for a second . "I changed my mind, you better get our weapons," he said to Isondoden with a scowl. "Scaly frog or not, these bastards crashed our show."

* * *

"They look like Tanarii," hissed Clawina. "Perhaps servants of Demogorgon?"

Alahou nodded in agreement. Their small band stayed out of sight near the edge of the tent, but they had a good enough view of the proceedings. Large scaled bipeds with serpentine torsos had 'appeared' out of nowhere and were now massacring the crowd. The disguised canine demon thought for sure they were agents of some rival demon lord out to claim their target, specifically the two headed dark lord known as the sibilant beast, and he felt the bloodlust rage within him to join the fray and claim the prize for he whose name rhymes with Borkus. He was about to throw off his illusion and wade into battle, but a small hand stayed his charge.

"Wait….",warned Ackerberg.

Alahou had the urge to smash the Halfling but remembered the maiming that Toadface recently took.

"They look similar to demons, but they smell different…..," noted the now one eyed Toadface. "A shifting smell. Like the sea and flowers one moment, carrion and sulfur the next. Kind of like those Slaad boys from Limbo, but not exactly …"

Alahou raised an eyebrow at the assessment and of Toadface's familiarity with the Slaad. He wondered if Hezrou were in any way related to those chaotic frog lords.

"Aye, you are correct Sir Toad. They are more akin to Slaad than to Tanarii, but their presence here …troubles me," said Ackerberg with a deep frown.

"What are they ? I've raided through Limbo lots of times and I've never seen them before," asked Clawina. Her girlish face filled with curiosity and delight.

Ackerberg considered her question but remained silent. "We should fall back for now. This situation calls for observation now, not confrontation."

Alahou was about to protest. The last thing he wanted were these odd snake creatures taking their prize, but the Halfling's grim tone gave him pause.

* * *

Isah watched in detachment as one of the snake creatures grabbed one of the soldiers. It yanked the screaming man's arm off even as three of the man's companions hacked away at its scaly hide.

Once again Isah felt a curious calm overtake her. A similar feeling to that when those demons attacked earlier. She definitely understood her dire predicament, but did not feel the fear or the panic. Isah wasn't sure why she felt that way, but noted it was a similar calm as when she was in the mines or when she saw those disguised demons following her earlier today. She knew should have been screaming her head off, but she felt safe with the dwarf and the summoner. They had defeated them once, and she somehow knew they could defeat them again. Besides, she wanted to see the show.

* * *

Kirgi's mind focused. He counted five of the snakemen, all the size of ogres. Thwo were sleek and violet, three had rough hides and brown. He picked one of the brown ones closest to them and took a step back, shoving Isah further behind him. Kirgi watched the guards' weapons bounce off the creature and guessed its scales were as thick as shields. It didn't matter though, he could shoot a dozen bolts at its torso and doubt he could slow it down. Its eyes however were a different story. The dwarf knew where to make his shots count. The throat, the groin, the ears, and of course his favorite the eyes.

While shooting a creature through the ears was always good for comic relief, Kirgi favored the squishy eyes. It was a difficult shot but often resulted in instant death to his foe when his bolt skewered the brain behind the eye sockets. Even against stupid creatures that didn't need the use of its brain like Myconids or giants, an eye shot could still blind its foe and give the dwarf a fighting chance, and failing impairment of its vision it often crippled the enemy with overwhelming pain.

Kirgi watched the snakeman whirl around and knock the guards down with its trunk like torso, and scowled as the fast moving creature gave him no clear shot. He glanced to the side and saw Petrus vanish in thin air as a snakeman charged the summoner. The creature looked confused for a second, but then screeched in pain as several large piercing wounds erupted in his body.

The dwarf frowned. The Summoner was getting the best of him again. Against his better judgement, he fired his crossbow into the back of the nearest snakeman's head. The bolt as predicted bounced off its thick skull, but to his good fortune, the monster twirled its head towards him and bared its teeth in a challenge. In a blink of an eye, Kirgi had already reloaded his crossbow and launched another bolt cleanly into the monster's eye.

The beast screeched in pain and fell to the ground writhing, its mighty coils smashing the benches and scattering the guards around it. Kirgi rushed forwards, ducking its death throes to get a better shot to finish it, but instead a massive ebon sandaled foot slammed into the monster's head, crushing the life out of it.

" Don't steal my kills woman! " Kirgi snorted as he stared up at the towering Adria. "I had it under control."

"I just hastened its demise since you left your charge undefended," said Adria plainly as she calmly turned towards another snakeman.

Kirgi blinked blankly and then recalled Isah. He turned towards the little girl and to his panic, he couldn't see her. For a second he had visions of some snakeman swallowing the hapless girl whole, and he imagined one of the creatures with a huge bulge in its belly attempting to slither away. He was about to shout to the invisible Petrus a warning, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the little girl waving from the Eidolon's back.

The dwarf nodded and quickly reloaded, seeking another target. He saw one of the violet serpent men crushing a particularly foppish looking noble. The man blubbered pathetically as he futilely attempted to invoke some type of incantation but could not maintain his concentration as the life was being cruelly squeezed out of him. All the wizard could do was produce a few impotent floating motes that did little save illuminate his killer. Kirgi considered firing a bolt into the hedge wizard to put him out of his misery, but instead used the man's blubbering as a distraction. As the violet snake creature elongated its jaws to silence its mewling prey, the dwarf fired his bolt cleanly into its mouth through the back of its neck.

The monster screeched in agony as it uncoiled its victim and began thrashing like Kirgi's previous target. The dwarf leaped up on a bench to get a better shot, before Adria could finish off another of his victims, but instead of thrashing madly like the deceased brown serpent, a powerful ripple erupted from the creature.

Kirgi wasn't sure what he saw. For a moment the air around the violet snake seemed to warp in on itself, like a wave of water that distorted the image behind it. The dwarf wasn't sure what was happening but everything in a growing circle around the beast seemed to bend and change simultaneously as a wave of chaos crashed into him.

One second the dwarf was ready to finish off his foe with his crossbow the next he was standing on his head, armed with an orange rabbit in one hand, with a bag of pastries strapped to his head.

* * *

Tank stared at the eye ball growing on the back of his hand curiously.

"Ignore what you see, "repeated the box. "It's true the warp wave can cause serious impairment, but most of the chaos you see is just a temporary trick of your mind."

"What's a warp wave? "Asked the heavy set ventriloquist as he attempted to walk. The insanity engulfed him, causing him to stagger in a drunken manner as he failed to regain his balance.

"Focus!" commanded Fyris behind him.

Tank glanced back and almost laughed out loud at the walking sandwich behind him. Despite her comical appearance, she did maintain her balance far better than he did, and she briskly pushed past him towards the curtain of singing socks and weeping flowers.

Tank stopped and closed his eyes as he steadied himself. "You know, if you didn't tell me this isn't real, I would probably be flipping out like that dwarf out there. I'm already seeing giant women."

"The giant is real," noted the box. "It appears to be an eidolon."

"An eye- iron-on? Is that some type of beholder golem?" asked Tank as his vision begin to settle.

"Focus! " repeated Fyris as Isondoden reappeared. Curiously, the ancient warrior's appearance seemed unaffected by the 'warp wave' or whatever was affecting them as he tossed the two heavy entertainers a pair of rolled blankets. While the pair had retired from adventuring some time ago, they weren't foolish enough to abandon their weapons in this dangerous world.

Tank quickly retrieved a heavy wooden shield and his broadsword, as he saw Fyris grab her bow, quiver, and scimitar. He also noticed that she resembled less like walking bread and more as an overweight Valkyrie in a jester outfit. He was about to make some amusing, most likely stupid comment to her, but the woman leapt through the now mundane looking curtains as soon as she armed herself.

Tank sighed and barged forwards after her.

* * *

A few moments ago, Kirgi was about to finish off his second snake man with a crossbow to the head. Now the dwarf found himself upside down, holding what appeared to be a baby gorilla in his flippers.

The entire world had turned upside down in a flash.

"Snap out of it dwarf! " commanded the booming voice of Adria from above.

Kirgi extended his segmented neck and saw that through the chaos, somehow the ebon giantess and the small girl clinging to her neck remained the same.

"Snake man…." warned Isah as she pointed.

A blur of motion was attempting to mask its movements by taking a circular route towards him. Kirgi wasn't sure what was approaching, but he had a good idea. The dwarf threw the miniature gorilla with his flippers at the movement and watched the primate get batted harmlessly away. Kirgi then pivoted his head and prepared his flaying legs, but was cut down by the sharp claws of one of the brown bulky snakemen. The dwarf staggered back, even as the snakeman pressed its advantage and slammed him once again, sending him heel over heads. The dwarf expected to land on his feet now that he was right side up, but was shocked when he floundered on his boots and slipped to the side. He half expected the snake man to tear his legs off like he saw one of them did earlier to the guard, but dark tentacles burst from the ground and wrapped around his foe.

The dwarf took the opportunity to catch his breath and saw his flippers slowly reforming before his eyes. He wasn't sure what was happening as he scrambled to his feet but was shocked to his core as a bellowing war cry roared through the tent.

"We never stop!" yelled a deep voice. He had heard that particular battle cry before and it sent chills down his spine. It was the battle shout of the Order of the Crab, one of the most feared warriors of the north. The dwarf blinked in disbelief as what appeared to be a fat man dressed in a clown outfit ram one of the snakemen in the side with his shield. The force of the blow staggered the scaled beast, but before it could turn his attention to its new attacker, another equally portly and outlandishly dressed clown appeared out of nowhere and slammed what appeared to be a silver scimitar into its back. The monster squirmed helplessly against the expertly placed blow, giving the first clown a chance to decapitate it with a heavy broadsword. The chubby entertainers moved with perfectly timed precision.

Kirgi then watched the second, slightly smaller clown spin gracefully on its chubby legs and in a fluid motion draw her bow and send two arrows into the squirming snake attempting to pull itself out of the tentacles. Kirgi considered himself an expert marksman but was impressed as he saw not one but both arrows found its mark in the beast's throat. The monster gave a final feeble shudder before it was completely pulled in by the Summoner's tentacles.

The dwarf's vision cleared and reality seemed to be slowly restored as he watched Adria slam a lightning fist into the remaining snakeman. The dwarf then shook his head vigorously like a dog, trying to shake the last of his bizarre visions from his eyes. When he saw that the fighting clowns were still present, he walked towards them as he scratched his head.

"So…when are you two supposed to change back?" he asked in confusion.


End file.
